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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26231797">I Found Home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotatoesOfWorldlyDesire/pseuds/PotatoesOfWorldlyDesire'>PotatoesOfWorldlyDesire</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Walking Dead &amp; Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cannon Divergent, Cannon compliant, Deaf Character, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Past Abuse, Romance, Season 10 Spoilers, Season 9 Spoilers, Sex, Slow Burn, Trauma, s10 spoilers, s9 spoilers, trope</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:21:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>21,709</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26231797</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotatoesOfWorldlyDesire/pseuds/PotatoesOfWorldlyDesire</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl can't sleep one night, so he decides to go for a wander. He bumps into Connie, and they start to explore this... whatever it is they have. What will their relationship look like in the light of day, with all the pressures of the new world on them?</p><p>(AKA Daryl has a past he needs to overcome and Connie is gonna help him through it! Lots of found family vibes with Judith, RJ, and Lydia. Eventual smut, lots of love and care on the way. Cannon compliant, apart from when it isn't.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Connie &amp; Daryl Dixon, Connie &amp; Daryl Dixon's Dog, Connie &amp; Lydia (Walking Dead), Connie/Daryl Dixon, Daryl Dixon &amp; Daryl Dixon's Dog, Daryl Dixon &amp; Judith Grimes, Daryl Dixon &amp; Lydia, Michonne &amp; Daryl (Mentioned), Rick Grimes/Michonne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>67</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>130</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Under the Stars</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>‘Connie!’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl cried out into the emptiness of his house. It was his own scream that jolted him awake. He didn’t remember whatever nightmare had caused it, but he could take a good guess as to what it was about.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie had been back at Alexandria for a week now, and he still hadn’t been able to sleep. After the cave-in, he’d been alright. He hadn’t slept, but he was able to look for her at night, sneaking into Alpha’s territory in the darkness, covering swaths of land in silence, ears pricked and eyes peeled for the slightest sound of her.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Now, he knew she was just down the road, probably fast asleep, and most importantly: safe. So why couldn’t he sleep?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He groaned in frustration and swung his feet over the side of the bed, slipping his boots on. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>One thing he preferred since the world’s end: the stars were magnificent. As a boy he’d taught himself every constellation from a pocket guidebook. He knew the stories behind them, how to use them for navigation, and how they moved across the sky with the seasons. He was so busy looking up at the stars as he walked he didn’t notice the presence beside him until she poked his bicep and he jumped damn near three feet in the air.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie laughed and waved at him. He waved back and tried to swallow his heartbeat.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Couldn’t sleep?’ She signed. He shook his head.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘You?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She looked away as she shook her head, smile melting from her face before it popped back up again. ‘What were you looking for?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He was grateful for the dark; she couldn’t see the heat rise to his cheeks. How long had she been watching him?</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I like the stars,’ He said out loud, speaking slowly to make sure she could read his lips properly, but also because he was measuring his words. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Can’t tell her about the nightmares</span>
  </em>
  <span>. ‘Why can’t you sleep?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Tell me about the stars.’ She signed, looking up at the sky. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He looked up, and shook his head. ‘Follow me.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She cocked her head but followed him as he led her to the storage building in the middle of town, and to the ladder at the very back. The town was silent, save for the crunching of the path under their boots as they walked, and then the gentle clanging as they ascended the ladder. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The rooftop itself was mostly bare, save for a few boxes of supplies, where Daryl took a seat on the edge, leaving plenty of room for Connie. When she sat close enough to him that their arms brushed, he felt all the blood rush out of his face. How was he feeling so woozy just from a graze, not even a touch? He pushed the feeling down, unexamined. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Better view up here. Less distractions.’ He said. He would come up here even before Connie, just to stare at the stars and figure life out after Rick and then after Michonne. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Tell me everything.’ She signed. He smiled.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He showed her the North star and spoke about how it was used to help sailors at sea and to save escaped slaves hundreds of years ago.  He talked about the big and little dippers and various names they’d had over the centuries. Every new word was written on her notebook in his handwriting. </span>
  <span>Then Connie pointed out a constellation he hadn’t spoken about yet, and the heat rushed to his face again. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘That’s Aquila.’ He pointed to a nearby constellation. ‘And that there’s Lyra. There’s a... goofy story about those two.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie looked at him and waited. Daryl avoided her gaze and looked at the ground instead. All of a sudden it felt like the stars were watching him, burning holes in the back of his head as he tried not to sound like he was pining for something. He wondered if Connie could see his tone written over his face.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Aquila was a </span>
  <span>boy,</span>
  <span> Lyra was a girl.’ He signed what words he knew, but had to lift his head when Connie tapped his shoulder and held up her notebook:</span>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I can’t read your lips if you don’t look at me.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>So he lifted his head and repeated, but focused on her shoulder rather than her face. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘So, Aquila’s job was to look after all the animals, and Lyra- she had to weave all the clothes. They were both best at what they did, but when they fell in love all that changed.’ He swallowed. ‘They lost interest in everything but each other. Didn’t eat, didn’t sleep, and definitely didn’t do their jobs right.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <span>So</span>
  <span> the gods...’ He looked up at the sky again, cold constellations twinkling back as if to encourage him, ‘The gods got angry. Said they couldn’t be together anymore. They put them on either side of the celestial river- the Milky Way- so they could never see each other and things could go back to the way they were.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘That’s a sad story, Daryl.’ Connie signed, looking up at the sky and then back to him.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘That’s the thing. Once a year, all the birds in the world, they fly up to make a bridge, so Aquila and Lyra can be together. Just for a night.’ He forced down a smile. ‘Must be a helluva night.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie chuckled. ‘That’s a better ending.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They sat in silence, a different kind of silence to the one that usually occupied their time together. Daryl had come to know the different kinds; the obvious one when they were both signing, which really wasn’t quiet at all, Connie’s hands were so loud. The other, when she was listening and he was talking, which was still quiet. He never wanted to feel like he was yelling at her, regardless of whether or not she could hear him. Then there was this, the rarest kind of silence; the one where they both had more to say than they let on, but decided to keep their hands, their thoughts, to themselves. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She shivered, reminding him how cool the night air was. Reminding him they should both be in bed if they were going to be any use the next morning.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie was still </span>
  <span>mesmerised</span>
  <span> by the stars when he gently tapped her on the shoulder, wincing when she jolted. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘We should get going. It’ll be morning soon.’ He signed alongside his words. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>A frown scrunched up Connie’s features, but she nodded, giving one last glance to the Milky Way that </span>
  <span>kept Aquila</span>
  <span> and Lyra apart. ‘We should do this again.’ She signed.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl smiled and shrugged. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They meandered through the streets, taking the long way home not accidentally, but not on purpose either. But </span>
  <span>Alexandria</span>
  <span> was a small community, and there was only so long they could stall the inevitable.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl paused at the base of Connie’s porch. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Well... bye.’ He waved, and turned to go, only to feel her hand on his shoulder. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie looked frustrated and held up a finger for him to wait. She </span>
  <span>pulleed</span>
  <span> out her notepad and scribbled furiously.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I haven’t been able to sleep since I got back.’ She handed the pad to Daryl, who for the first time noticed the heavy bags under her eyes and the slight droop to her usually bright gaze. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Have you been to the Docs? Doctors?’ He handed the notepad back to her.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘It’s not something he can cure.’ was the answer. Connie took the notepad back and scribbled underneath,</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Will you stay? Tonight?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl gulped. Of all the ways he’d thought his midnight walk might go, this wasn’t on the list.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I’m your friend,’ was all he said, staring at her. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie took that as a yes and let him inside. He’d been over enough times to know Kelly slept in the room across from Connie’s, that they didn’t have a guest room. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He tapped her on the shoulder and signed, </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Couch?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He could barely make out her smile in the dark but he was sure he saw her biting her lip as she led him upstairs with quiet footsteps, like they were a couple of naughty teenagers. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She sat on the bed and kicked off her boots. He lingered next to the closed door, but took off his boots too. What was she expecting from him? He took a deep breath in. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What have I got to give?</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Then she was looking up at him with those tired, kind eyes and the word </span>
  <em>
    <span>Everything</span>
  </em>
  <span> sprang to mind.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He took off his leather vest but left the rest of his clothes on. Connie peeled off her green cardigan, leaving her in jeans and a white undershirt. Even in the electric light of her bedside lamp, she was beautiful, russet skin glowing gold in the light as she patted one side of the bed. He climbed in and kept over the covers. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>When she climbed in beside him he tensed. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘You okay?’ She signed. He nodded, and she leaned her head on his shoulder. He resisted the impulse to wrap an arm around her. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>How did her hair smell so good? How did all of her smell so good? She used the same soap as everybody else. Same showers. Yet, as her hair tickled his nose, there was something more to it than soap. Something unspeakably </span>
  <em>
    <span>Connie</span>
  </em>
  <span> about it. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t expected her to invite him in, and he especially wasn’t expecting her to reach between them for his hand, before leaning over and turning off the bedside light.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t stupid; he knew his own mind well enough to know how he felt about her. He knew her well enough to know she was... well. Yet, something in his mind refused to give. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe you can’t trust her,</span>
  </em>
  <span> it said. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re just </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>gonna</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> disappoint her if you do. Or she’ll disappoint you. What’s the point of that? You’re in way over your head, Runt.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He winced at the old nickname. His father used it on him all the time, and it never left his head. He was the smaller Dixon, the weakling, the one who would always have to fight. Things hadn’t changed, even with his family gone. He didn’t notice his muscles tensing at the memory until he felt Connie shifting beside him, laying across the bed so that her head was on his lap, him still sat up. Her hands found his arms and </span>
  <span>caressed</span>
  <span> softly down to his hands, placing them in her hair. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl knew what this was. Permission. Or maybe a request? He let his fingers comb through her hair experimentally, and felt her sigh against him. He didn’t stop, even when he felt her relax and succumb to sleep. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The reality of the situation dawned on him- Connie's head on his lap, sharing a bed with her in her house. Sneaking over in the middle of the night. Even telling her about the stars, god damnit! It all seemed so adolescent, like something he might have done years ago, in a different life, in another world. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He shifted carefully so that Connie didn’t wake up as he got out of bed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She asked you to stay, asshole.</span>
  </em>
  <span> His mind reminded him, and Daryl felt a pang. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to stay... he just couldn’t. That wasn’t him. Not his life.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Still, he found her notepad and pen on the bedside table and wrote, </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Had a great night.’ </span>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You idiot,</span>
  </em>
  <span> his brain chastised. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>kinda</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> virgin message is that? That’s what a </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>highschool</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> fucker texts after a party. </span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I hope you sleep well. Sorry I had to go. Dog gets anxious alone. Daryl.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He ignored the voice in his head </span>
  <span>criticising</span>
  <span> every word, ignored the tug in his gut trying to pull him back into bed with Connie. He picked up his boots and paused in the doorway, unable to stop himself from looking back at Connie, who was still sleeping peacefully, curled around where he had been a moment ago.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl closed his eyes and clicked the door shut quietly, like he’d learned to do as a child.</span>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you guys like it! I had a lot of fun writing this and there's plenty more to come, so if you liked it keep an eye out! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments below.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The next night, another nightmare jolted Daryl awake. He lay awake in bed, trying to forget it- but this wasn’t like the others. Those were mostly abstract, shadows and the dead coming to hurt those he wanted most to protect. Michone, Judith, Connie- especially Connie, recently- were all targets of the monsters in his dreams. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tonight</span>
  <span> was different. Tonight, his mind saw fit to replay the day of the cave- just as it had happened, but in the </span>
  <span>dream</span>
  <span> he knew exactly what was going to happen. He was powerless to change anything;</span>
  <span> still forced himself out first into the screaming daylight, still called for Carol to come out next, knowing that he was trading Connie’s safety for theirs. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Then the explosion rocked the world so he flew back and fell hard on the ground, not registering and yet at the same time knowing exactly what had happened. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He felt himself scrambling to the top of the rubble, heard Kelly screaming and following him. His hands scrabbled helplessly back and forth, throwing rocks away, trying to dig, trying to get to her. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Daryl. Daryl.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He kept digging. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘It’ll take us a week to clear this.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Then help me!’ He’d screamed, and that was the cry that woke him tonight. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Help me.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He thought the call was from outside at first. Lay frozen in bed and waited, before he </span>
  <span>realised</span>
  <span> it had been a dream. But it wasn’t, was it? It had been real. It still </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> real, just in the past. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He slipped his boots and vest on and was careful to step over Dog without waking him up as he went for his walk tonight. The stars were out again, but he kept his eyes on the surrounding area, hoping to see Connie. He had caught eyes with her today at dinner and she’d flashed him a short smile but apart from that there’d been no chance to talk. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He felt a pit in his stomach remembering how he’d left her, and wondered briefly if she resented him for it. What did she expect? She knew how it was. How <em>he</em> was. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s not like that,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’d told Carol before the cave-in. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not at all. </span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What an idiot. </span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He brushed his hair from his eyes, but still didn’t see Connie anywhere. <em>Good.</em> Maybe her sleep problems were solved. Disappointment gnawed at his chest but he climbed the ladder to the rooftop anyway. The stars were always welcome company. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t expect to see her there waiting for him. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She waved at him and held up her notepad. ‘What took you so long?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled, a strong smile that broke through the guard he always kept on his face. Connie grinned as he shrugged and sat next to her. She </span>
  <span>schooched</span>
  <span> closer to him just as she had the night before, but this time rested her head on his shoulder.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He tensed automatically, but coaxed himself into relaxing after a moment. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s just so she’s comfortable,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he told himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t be stupid.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Nobody ever touched him so casually. Even Carol, after finding Ezekiel, had had less time for him; didn’t rest her head on him like this. When she’d done it there was less heat, more warmth, if that made sense. If his mother had been a good person, Daryl liked to think she’d have been like Carol. Loving, willing to listen, willing to talk without a torrent of abuse and cigarette smoke.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie was also loving (god, there was a lump of something in his throat just at using that word). She also listened, in her way. She listened with her eyes, watching his lips, his actions, his consequences... and when he was out of line or needed help, she was there. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>So how come he was so chickenshit about her <em>touching</em> him?</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe because the first person to touch him in this world hadn’t ever protected him. Maybe because his father was a coward more than a man, hiding behind savage beatings and cruel words, keeping his kids hungry for days on end out of spite. Calling </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> love. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it came down to Merle teasing him about his first girlfriend until Daryl broke up with her; only to find them doing god-knows-what in his shared bedroom a week later. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He refused to think of himself as broken. You couldn’t be broken in this world, he knew, and make it so long. ‘Guarded’ was just another word for </span>
  <em>
    <span>safe</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Alive</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Her hands on his brought him from his thoughts. At some point his fingers had curled into fists on his lap, clawing at his jeans. She took one of his hands once he’d relaxed and held it on her lap. He noticed she was cold again. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Probably just close to you for your heat. Don’t kid yourself. </span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It was hard to tell which voice was his and which came from whatever was left of his father, echoing through Daryl’s consciousness. He remembered every word beat into him as a boy.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The voice was instantly silenced when her lips were on his neck. Soft, chaste, but undeniable. Stirring something in him he hadn’t felt since before everything went </span>
  <span>to</span>
  <span> hell. He closed his eyes, enjoyed the sensation for a moment before she stopped and settled more against him. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If you don’t kiss her, I will.</span>
  </em>
  <span> That was undeniably Merle’s voice, which was easy to ignore. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl smiled as he and Connie leant back to look at the stars again, the Milky Way a thousand times better than any firework show, glow of it a thousand times healthier for the lack of air pollution nowadays. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Why can’t you sleep?’ She wrote on her notepad after a long time. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugged, avoiding meeting her eyes. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Daryl,’ she signed, frowning, the only person ballsy enough to take his chin and force him to look at her. She didn’t need to sign anything. Her eyes demanded an answer.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Nightmares.’ He mumbled, but from the way she cocked her head he knew she’d seen. Knew she </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘What about?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Doesn’t matter.’ Daryl stood up, cold clawing at the side of his body where she had been leaning. He signed, ‘Time to go home. Need sleep.’ and extended her a hand. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She frowned but allowed him to help her up. Tonight they didn’t meander through the streets as they had yesterday, but they still paused on her doorstep. Connie sighed. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I can’t sleep either.’ She signed, writing the word on her notepad before showing him the sign. ‘Nightmares.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She knew how to pull at his heart, but that just made his pulse beat faster as Daryl started to walk away. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Again, Connie rushed up beside him, signing, ‘You’re leaving?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘What do you want from me, Connie?’ He said, fighting down the urge to yell. </span>
  <em>
    <span>There’s no need for this. No need to drag things out.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He frowned when she signed back a single word.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘You.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t understand or even resister the meaning until he was already halfway down the street. It hit him like a horde of walkers and he stopped in his tracks. He turned around to see Connie in the bottom step of her porch, eyes glistening with tears. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He shut his own and took a deep breath. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What are you doing? This is Connie. You can’t leave her like this.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She was wiping her eyes by the time he reached her again, refusing to look at him. He’d never been one for comforting- Carol was good at that; Rick, maybe, but not Daryl. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He stood in front of her like an idiot, not sure what to do at all, or what to say. </span>
  <span>Finally</span>
  <span> he just took her in his arms and held her until she stopped shaking. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I’m sorry,’ she signed, breaking away slightly. Her hands went so fast he couldn’t really understand her, only caught the odd word. The new one stood out to him,</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Nightmares.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘You.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Cave.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Alone.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Dead.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I’m sorry,’ she repeated, before hugging him and burying her face in his chest. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Such a jerk,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Daryl chastised himself. A memory of his father helped: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Useless. Runt. Runt. Runt. Piece of shit.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He squeezed his eyes shut tight and held her closer, as if that could stop the words that haunted him or the nightmares that haunted her. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>When her breathing calmed, he pulled away and signed,</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I’m sorry.’ He said aloud: ‘I’m a jerk. I’m not... good, Connie. But... I’m trying.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘You are good.’ She signed back, taking his hand and leading him not back to her place, but his.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Can I stay?’ She asked, biting her lip. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl gulped. How could he say no? Did he even want to?</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He found himself nodding, and tension flooded out of Connie’s shoulders as they went inside. She stepped carefully over Dog without him even having to warn her. It warmed his heart, reminded him why he liked her so much in the first place: she noticed everything. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She knew where his bedroom was but he led her there anyway. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘You sure you don’t want me on the couch?’ He rubbed the back of his head. She rolled her eyes and smiled, shaking her head.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He found himself being kissed on the cheek when he turned to put the light out- if he hadn’t turned at just the right time Connie would have caught him on the lips, and he wasn’t sure how he’d react to that. </span>
  <span>
    <em>Maybe I'd set on fire.</em>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, they both settled under the covers. She shimmied out of her jeans and he took that as a cue it was okay to take his off too; leaving them both in t-shirts and underwear. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He was on his back and she draped herself over him, head over his heart, legs entwined with his, sharing his warmth, that was it. She was still cold from the night air. He remembered the night before and a hand went to her hair, playing with the ringlets until he felt her relax against him and sigh peacefully. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He knew there was nowhere to run to now, knew he didn’t truly </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to, even if his heart was beating out of his chest at the feel of her soft curves against the harsh muscle and scars of his body. What if the next night she wanted to see... more of him? She’d have to see the scars. Then she’d know.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Runt</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Weak piece of shit.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>At the very least, he’d have to explain where he came from- not the worst family in America, but the most mediocre. Redneck hillbilly trash. Racism ran in his veins, less on his mother’s side but still there. His father had the confederate flag hung up, pride-of-place in their kitchen until Daryl got very drunk at 14 and covered the damn thing in pig shit. He'd left it on the doorstep for his father to find in the morning. Even if there was no evidence Daryl had done it, but it still resulted in a beating in it for him, just for being there. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, if his family could see him now.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The thought made him smile, even if it did little to ease his nerves about the beautiful woman with her legs tangled between his, currently drooling onto his t-shirt in her sleep. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl closed his eyes, and slept well for the first time in a long time.</span>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Asdfghjkl emotionally distant Daryl ;_; GIVE CONNIE MORE CUDDLES, DAMMIT. </p><p>I hope you're all enjoying the story so far. If you are, please tell me what you like so I can add more of it to the next chapters! If you have any ideas for stories you'd like to see, tell me! I am here for you to laugh, cry, and rant over all the Daryl and Connie feels. </p><p>Much love.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Connie blinked awake, wondering why she was so warm, why it was so bright in this unfamiliar room. She shifted slightly, coming face-to-face with a sleeping Daryl. They were on their sides facing each other, his arm draped over her as he slept. His breath was steady, warm; he didn’t stir when Connie placed a hand over his heart, closing her eyes and enjoying the vibrations there.</p><p>
  <em>Thump-thump. Thump-thump.</em>
</p><p>When she opened her eyes again, she took in his face. He looked so much younger without the scowl he wore for other people, or the worry he sometimes wore around her.</p><p>His arms were well-muscled, but also scarred. Back when she’d started out as a reporter, Connie had done a few stories on abuse survivors, field work in orphanages and foster homes. She could tell a lot of the marks on Daryl didn’t come from the dead, but from the living, from a long time ago.</p><p>Someone had put out a cigarette on his arm, multiple times. His shirt had hiked up slightly in his sleep, and she bit her lip and looked back up to his face. Who would do that to someone like Daryl? Those marks were deeper, the kind made by a serrated knife or something with a jagged edge.<em> A broken bottle?</em> Those scars were mostly faded... as much as they could be. The way they looked, someone who definitely wasn’t a doctor had tried to sew them up again.</p><p>He shifted onto his front, still fast asleep, and she saw another scar on the back of his hip- this one in the shape of a cross. She’d seen a matching one on Michonne once, when Michonne had been bent over to pick something up. At the time she thought it was nothing, but why would they both carry the same gruesome mark?</p><p>She knew little about his past. His brother (<em>Merle?</em>) had been a piece of work; she knew that much. But all brothers could be- all siblings. What about his parents? What was his life like before everything?</p><p>She spotted a reasonable pile of ASL books on his bedside table. How long had he been scavenging them? She’d only seen one constantly sticking out of his back pocket. Part of her had wondered if he secretly disliked having to deal with her disability, if he was just nodding along as she signed to humour her, but now she smiled to herself and kissed the top of his head.</p><p>The room was bright enough to wake her only because all of the curtains were cracked open, allowing light into the room. Desks- work benches, really- lined the wall by the door. They were covered in grime, tools, various sharp things she didn’t know the word for, magnifiying glasses, crossbow bolts, and spare parts. While she knew he hadn’t lived here for long and spent most of his time in the woods, his basement room still looked lived-in.</p><p>It smelled vaguely of motor oil, and she guessed he used this room for smaller repair projects on his motorcycle and crossbow. Chests, papers, lined the walls on the opposite side of the room- perhaps this was more a storage area than a home for Daryl.</p><p>He stirred, rolling back onto his side away from her. He rubbed his eyes and she knew he was awake, waited for him to turn around. She watched his body go through the motions of a heavy sigh before he rolled onto his back. He jolted when he realised she was still there.</p><p>She smiled and waved, signing, ‘Good Morning.’</p><p>‘Good morning.’ He signed back, hands clumsy in his freshly-awakened state.</p><p>He seemed to want to look anywhere but at her- was he ashamed? No, she thought of the way he took her in his arms last night in the street. He was a good man, but an honest one. If he’d wanted to reject her he’d have done it right there, leaving no question.</p><p>So, what was it?</p><p>‘Breakfast?’ He mimed eating with a spoon, not knowing the word.</p><p>She smiled and nodded, following him out of bed, trying not to notice how good he looked with morning-hair and just a little more stubble than normal.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A short chapter, because I've been keeping y'all waiting for far too long. The next one is coming soon!</p><p>Hope you're all doing well in the midst of 2020's insanity. Thanks for reading. Let me know if you enjoyed! Comments fuel your favourite writers ;)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The next night, Daryl didn’t appear at the rooftop. Connie waited for at least an hour before deciding if he hadn’t arrived yet, he wasn’t coming. The thought made her feel heavy. He couldn’t have forgotten her- maybe he was just asleep?</span>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Then why is his living room light on? </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She hoped he wouldn’t mind the intrusion on his privacy when she made her way into his house and into the living room. She knocked before she came in, not that it would have made a difference if he replied or not.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl was slumped over on the couch, bottle of whiskey in one hand- where had he got that from? When? Why? She thought he didn't drink. The home-brewed booze at Alexandria wasn’t to his taste, when she’d asked him why he’d said it wasn’t strong enough. She’d assumed he was joking.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Why are you here, Connie?’ he asked, eyes still closed. He cracked them open to watch her reply, but she didn’t know what to say. It was hard to read his lips, and it was probably hard for him to read her handwriting too as she scribbled:</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Where’d you get that?’ She pointed at the whiskey in his hand, holding up her notebook. He took a long swig straight from the bottle, which was mostly empty- she prayed it hadn’t been full whenever he’d started.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘What do you care?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I care about you, Daryl.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>That set something off in him. He took another sip from the bottle and set it on the table in front of him just a little too hard- she jumped at the harsh movement. Pain flashed behind his eyes and she knew- this wasn’t Daryl. This was someone else- his lips moved clumsily, drawling and making him even harder to read.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘You don’t care about me, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Connie</span>
  </em>
  <span>.’ He signed her name with clumsy, almost sarcastic movements, stumbling a little as he stood up. ‘You want something. What do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span>, huh? A piece of me? You want to slum it with Daryl, fuck in the woods, tell all your little girlfriends about it, right?’ </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He was close enough now that she could smell the whiskey on his breath, even if she hadn’t seen the bottle. Even as he towered over her and she felt the instinct to shrink back, she held her ground. Drunk or not, this was Daryl- he wouldn’t hurt her.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Why are you saying this?’ She signed. She knew from his face that he got the gist of what she meant, but still found herself writing on her notebook ‘Why are you always pulling away?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘What do you care?’ He repeated. She could tell from the tension in his neck that he was louder now, and she just hoped the kids were still asleep upstairs. Judith and RJ had been through enough without hearing this. ‘What do you </span>
  <span>wanna</span>
  <span> know about me?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Everything.’ She signed. ‘You and me are family.’ </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>That sign- </span>
  <em>
    <span>family</span>
  </em>
  <span>- sent something electric through him. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘You </span>
  <span>wanna</span>
  <span> hear about the people I killed? The white trash that raised me? I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>trash</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Connie- I had </span>
  <span>cigarettes</span>
  <span> put out on me since I was five years old. My dad used to whip me with birch branches- my brother too, but mostly me. You </span>
  <span>wanna</span>
  <span> know about that? Or how about my mom? How about the time she forgot to pick me up from school and the social workers came around, took me and put me with a foster family that was </span>
  <em>
    <span>worse?</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ He rolled up his sleeve and showed her scarring on his inner forearm. ‘You don’t </span>
  <span>wanna</span>
  <span> know me.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tears rolled down her face as she shook her head. ‘Where you come from doesn’t matter,’ She wrote. ‘I still want to know you.’ She paused before writing, ‘I want to help,’ and holding it up for him to see.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Help</span>
  </em>
  <span> me?’ For a moment this was the real Daryl, before the rage boiled up in his body and he exploded: ‘What, is there a fuckin' sign on my back that says ‘save me’? You think I can’t look after my own goddamn self? Well, I been doing that since the day I was fuckin’ born, and that’s the way it’s always </span>
  <span>gonna</span>
  <span> be. Me, on my own. What, you think a couple adventures, some nights on a rooftop means shit next to this?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled down the collar of his shirt and she could see more scars on his chest- circular ones, again as if someone had put out a </span>
  <span>cigarette</span>
  <span> there repeatedly; a long jagged on traced from his collarbone to beyond what Connie could see.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She moved to touch him, to comfort him, but he moved away. Before she knew it, <em>she</em> had <em>him</em> backed up against the wall. Daryl was shaking with something. He wasn’t crying; she wasn’t sure anyone had ever seen him cry, but his eyes were wide and screaming. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s scared out of his mind</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He flinched when she reached out to touch his cheek, breathing heavily. ‘Connie...’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Go home.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>That made her step back. Made her remove her hand from his face and look at him, a picture of all the hurt in the world. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I said, go </span>
  <em>
    <span>home</span>
  </em>
  <span>.’ He signed to make his point, more miming than proper signing, but she knew what he meant- and it stung. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Go home, Connie. I don’t want you here.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It was his turn to back her against the wall, breath coming in short pants. ‘I don’t need another body to take care of. Got enough trouble under just this roof.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Yeah, you do.’ She tore the page out of her notebook and shoved it into his hand, not caring if he read or understood it. Still, the tears spilled over her cheeks as she pushed past him and walked out the door.</span>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yesterday was a short chapter, so here's another. If you were Connie, would you forgive Daryl?</p><p>Stay tuned tomorrow to see if she does ;)</p><p>Hope you're all liking things so far. Thank you for your amazing comments.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When things got really bad, Daryl dreamt of Rick, as he had been the last time they spoke. They paced around each other at the bottom of the ditch, unable to find a way out. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘So, Connie.’ Rick looked at Daryl from the corner of his eyes. ‘You finally had to go chasing after her. Couldn’t just let things be, huh?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I </span>
  <span>dunno</span>
  <span> what you mean.’ Daryl grunted, jumping up to try and scramble a hold on a root- getting a face full of dirt for his trouble.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Daryl, I get why you can’t accept it. I do.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Accept what</span>
  <span>?’ Daryl spat mud onto the ground.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘You lost so many people. Sophia. Beth. Glenn. Jesus. Even Carol, in a way.’ Rick stepped forward to clap a hand on Daryl’s shoulder, but Daryl backed away. ‘It makes sense to be scared.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I </span>
  <span>ain’t</span>
  <span> scared.’ Daryl couldn’t look Rick in the eye.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘No?’ Rick scoffed. ‘</span>
  <span>Sure</span>
  <span> as hell acting like it. You don’t drink anymore, but you kept hold of that whiskey for how long? And decided to drink it, all of it, when you knew she’d be waiting for you... why?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Because I need to forget about it.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘About losing people?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘About trying to keep them.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘You think you can forget about me?’</span>
  <span> Rick smirked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Of course not.’ Daryl grimaced. ‘I think about you every damn day.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘You did what you had to do.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I should have done </span>
  <span>somethin</span>
  <span>’ different. I couldn't even <em>find</em> you.’</span>
  <span> Tears pricked at the back of Daryl's eyes, but he blinked them back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rick waved him away. ‘Things </span>
  <span>woulda</span>
  <span> blown up, one way or another. Too much bad blood, too much left unspoken.’ He looked up at the edges of the pit, which seemed to have grown taller, cleaner, with fewer roots to grab onto.</span>
  <span> The sunlight was blinding white.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘And you’re okay with how things turned out?’ Daryl asked.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Why the hell wouldn’t I be?’ Rick focused on him now, with that clear, piercing gaze that always saw through people’s bullshit. Even in Daryl’s dreams, Rick had to be the pragmatic one. ‘You’re all safe. Judith and RJ? They’re okay, thanks to you. What we did.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘If I try to keep people close,’ Daryl talked slowly, unsure how to get his thoughts out. ‘...I couldn’t save Sophia, or Beth, or Glenn. Things can’t go back to the way they were.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Keeping Connie close is how you make sure it won’t.’ Rick’s voice was so soft, so thoughtful and real. Daryl hoped he’d never wake up.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Nah. Getting close means it will.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘You deserve something good, Daryl.’ Rick laughed. ‘Something better than hunting with your dog. Carol made a good point. Connie's smart, dependable, and she knows what you need. You need... her.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I can’t get close again. She’ll lose me, or I’ll lose her.’ Daryl let himself sink to the floor, staring at his knees. Rick came to kneel beside him.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘If you don’t, if she dies anyway, you’ll regret everything that never happened. If you don’t... do something with what’s left, our whole fight was for nothing; every person who died, died for nothing. <em>Me</em>, I died for nothing.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That <em>hurt.</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘You know that </span>
  <span>ain’t</span>
  <span> true.’ </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘No?’ Rick raised an eyebrow. ‘You finally got a safe house, a family who loves you, a woman who wants you, and yet you’re still spending all your time alone in the woods killing walkers. Looking for me for nine years- I appreciate it- but it’s time, Brother.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I never asked for any of that, family, safety... Connie...’ Daryl grumbled, but something in his brain clicked, and Rick knew it. A smile spread over the former sheriff’s face. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I know. Maybe you should’ve. Instead of chasing something that isn’t meant to be, you just </span>
  <span>gotta</span>
  <span> let me go. Look at what you have. Ask for what you <em>need.’</em></span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>When Daryl looked up, Rick was gone. The dream around him melted into inky blackness, but the conversation echoed into the early hours of the morning.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>.. .. .. ..</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl. Was. In. Pieces.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He hated himself. For finding the whiskey in the woods, for taking it home, for drinking it when he knew damn well why he was drinking it and when he knew damn well what he’d do if Connie came ‘round. Once again, he ugly voices in his mind were fucking psychic.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She could never love you, Runt. Look what you said to her. No woman wants to be treated like that.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Forget about him, little brother. Treat ‘</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>em</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> mean, keep ‘</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>em</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> keen. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Merle drawled. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The two shittiest family members he’d ever had were constantly brawling in his head for the next week. He was escorting a small group from Alexandria to Hilltop and back, trading supplies, helping out where he could. He dreaded coming back to Alexandria and facing Connie again, knowing he had to apologise. More than apologise, really. An atomic apology was in order, and he had no idea where to start. His memory of the night was just clear enough... He knew he’d said too many hurtful things to take back. He’d shown her the part of himself that was easy to keep locked away, until he drank the key.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The hangover had felt more like divine punishment until he’d caught eyes with her and she’d looked away first. No friendly wave. No smile. Anger radiated from her, but more than that- he'd </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt</span>
  </em>
  <span> her, and he had no idea how to fix that. He couldn’t even fix himself.</span>
  
</p><p><em>Ask for what you </em>need<em>.</em></p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t for big romantic gestures, and he hoped to god that wasn’t what Connie wanted. He’d rather jump face-first into a pit of walkers than stand on any rooftops screaming </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m sorry Connie!</span>
  </em>
  <span>  Which she wouldn’t hear anyway, so he had no idea why he was even entertaining the idea. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stupid. Asshole.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He was glad the whiskey was gone, so he could never touch the stuff again. He hated the part of him that craved it- the part that knew his father had been right to cause every scar, every pain, every cruel word. He cringed at the thought of his scars as the the gates to Alexandria opened for him, Dog, and the group. The others had people who came up to them the moment the gates opened, greeting them with smiles and hugs that Daryl tried to ignore. He couldn’t ignore the pang in his gut at the laughter as the larger group walked off, leaving him alone with Dog- and even Dog ran off, probably to greet Judith or RJ. Daryl reminded himself of another reason it was a shit move to be drinking: he had kids to take care of now.</span>
  <span><em> Rick's</em> kids. Even in death, his friend gave him reasons to carry on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He caught up with Dog and froze in his tracks when he saw it wasn’t just Judith and RJ there, but Connie too. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t balls this up.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He took a deep breath, ignoring the lack of feeling in his legs, and walked forward. Connie smiled as she played with Dog and then watched the children play-fight with Dog in the field, but the smile evaporated from her face when she saw Daryl. She started to walk away, but he stepped in front of her.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She made to side-step him, but he repeated his movements until she stopped, hands on her hips. He did his best to look her in the eye, trying to remember the hand movements he’d stayed up all night for the past three nights to </span>
  <span>memorise</span>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No room for error.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m sorry.</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ Her eyes remained cold. ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>I was a dick. I shouldn’t have been drinking.</span>
  </em>
  <span>’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed as her arms moved from her hips to her chest, crossed defensively. She still looked furious.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I shouldn’t have pushed you away. It was wrong of me to treat you like that. You deserve better. I’m sorry.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He turned to leave then, go back to the house and never come out again, but her hand on his shoulder stopped him. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He turned and she held up a note that said, ‘You </span>
  <span>were</span>
  <span> a dick. Don’t do it again.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She motioned for him to come closer, but stopped him when he was about a foot away, turning to watch the kids and Dog playing fetch on the field. Without a word, the message was clear: <em>We're okay, but I need space.</em> It was painfully close, but he was just thankful she heard him out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>RJ managed to climb on top of dog and ride him like a horse for approximately three seconds, before falling into the tall grass and screeching as Judith descended on him in a fit of tickles. Connie laughed and caught corner-eyes with Daryl for a moment, her smile lighting him up from the inside out. That was enough for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>You need this. </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Phew! I was going to leave it a week, but I have a job interview tomorrow and I just couldn't leave the bad mojo of last chapter hanging in the air. Not MY Connie and Daryl ;)</p><p>Hope you guys liked this one. I've never written Rick before, but in my defence this is more how Daryl really sees Rick than actual Rick. Dreams are the perfect excuse for being a little OOC, am I right? Still, hope you're enjoying the story as we go. Your comments keep me fueled.</p><p>Thanks for reading ^_^</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It wasn’t always nightmares. Sometimes memories haunted Daryl in the waking hours. As he sat in the cool night air on their rooftop, he didn’t feel like he was really there. He could close his eyes and hear the music that never truly stopped:</span>
  
</p><p>
  <em>It’s our moment in the sun </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And it’s only just begun </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s time to have a little fun... </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The rancid smell of his own sweat and the soiled clothes Negan had given him to wear, the claustrophobic darkness of the cupboard... he shuddered. </span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>‘Eat.’ Dwight ordered, shoving a foul sandwich in Daryl’s face, before dropping it on the ground. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Daryl didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>‘You got your friend killed.’ Dwight shrugged, like it was nothing. ‘I got Tina killed. Don’t pretend like you don’t know the score.’ </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The score? Rage shot through Daryl as he threw the sandwich at Dwight’s feet, narrowly missing the man. Fuck his score. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Then Dwight’s thickly scarred face, inches from his, sneered, ‘You should be dead.’ </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I should be dead.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Before the memory could continue, footsteps echoed behind Daryl in the waking world. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn't expected Connie to show up on their rooftop that night, so when he heard the creak of the box next to him Daryl felt the day’s weight lift from his shoulders. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She still wasn’t as close as she usually sat- he could see her shoulders shaking even through her green cardigan. Her smile seemed more curt than friendly, but at least she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>there</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I’m sorry,’ He signed again. She help a hand up to stop him, holding up her notepad instead.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Don’t ever do that to me again. People don’t get many chances in this world. If you don’t like me, just say it.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She looked at him, expression guarded. This was exactly what he’d been afraid of. He knew what he wanted, hell, he even knew how to get there- he just had to say the word and they could be... something. Really something. He hadn’t had the chance for that since... <em>Annie.</em> And Annie had been forever ago. So why couldn’t he do anything but sign,</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I’m sorry.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Again?</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Evidently, she took this as a response to the latter half of her note, and got up to leave.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl never moved so fast as he did when he grabbed her arm and pulled her close, so close their faces were inches apart. He looked in her eyes, but she only looked at his lips.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I </span>
  <span>ain’t</span>
  <span> good at words. What I </span>
  <em>
    <span>meant</span>
  </em>
  <span> was, I’m sorry I ever did that to you in the first place. I didn’t want to hurt...’ He licked his lips and hoped he wasn’t about to regret everything, ‘I didn’t want to hurt you, Connie. It sounds dumb as hell in the light of day, but I really thought I was protecting you, showing you the<em> real</em> me, telling you all that shit. Whenever I’m around you, I feel different. Better.’ He let her go and stepped back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I should be dead. I guess I just don’t know how to process that- or any of it. You might hear stories about the good shit I’ve done, but that’s just what people here remember.’ He looked at the floor. ‘I remember <em>everything</em>. And I’m sorry for everything. 'cept what we get up to.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She stared at him for a long minute, thinking. Then she seemed to decide something and nodded, taking her seat on the boxes again. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>When they sat together, she turned so that they were facing each other, just far enough that their knees brushed. She wrote, ‘It’s okay. Families fight.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘And we’re still... family?’ Daryl wasn’t sure what the word meant, when it came to them. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded and smiled, writing, ‘Sometimes family hurts. But they’re still family. It takes time to heal some wounds.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie bit her lip before signing, 'Why did you drink?'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl shrugged. 'I spent a long time thinking that's the real me. I know it ain't... but I thought...' He shook his head. 'I wasn't thinking. It won't happen again, s'all I can say.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked up at him, then studied the stars for a moment before signing, ‘You want to help me?’</span>
  
</p><p>He nodded.</p><p>
  <span>‘Tell me about your family. Before.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He froze, hands immediately curling into useless baby fists on his lap. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘What did I tell you when... you know?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie flipped backwards a few pages to an older page, tear-stained. Daryl took it, with a twist in his heart. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Abusive father </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Abusive brother </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Scars </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Awful foster family </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt naked, seeing himself on the page in so simply. Sure, he’d done more since everything ended, but this was still where he’d come from, and there was no changing that. It was still a big part of him, unchangeable as eye </span>
  <span>colour</span>
  <span>.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘My </span>
  <span>parents</span>
  <span> weren't meant to be parents,’ He began, and found pieces of his past pouring out of him. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘My <em>first</em> memory is of <em>my dad.’</em> Daryl signed the words he knew to take his mind away from what he was saying. ‘I guess I was two or three, and I was running around after my brother- I told you about Merle, </span>
  <span>right?-</span>
  <span> Anyway, we were running laps around the coffee table, and while I was chasing Merle, Dad tripped me up. I thought it was an accident, but now? I realise he was laughing at me while I cried.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head. ‘My first </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span> memory is when I was ten, fishing with Merle.’ He smiled. ‘I liked it when we could get out the house for a few days. School would ring my parents and they’d always have some bullshit excuse ready for why we never went. Really, they had no idea where we were. Anyway, Me and Merle could stay out in the woods for weeks at a time, and we did, in summer.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He told her more of the good parts, the camping trips, the rare times his father had given him some manly wisdom: how to gut and skin deer, tanning hide, purifying water. The time his Mother pushed him into the lake and taught him how to swim. That was more fun than it sounded, he assured Connie, whose eyes went wide before he laughed and told her the water was only waist-level, he’d nearly drowned scared only because he hadn’t thought to stand up.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She chuckled a little at that, and her face a warm glow that seemed to reach into him. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She told him about her family, how her father was a good politician, but hindered by the powers around him. He wasn’t a great family man, but he provided everything she'd ever asked for- dance lessons, girl scout memberships, self-defence classes... His own life story inspired her to become a reporter. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I worked with people like you.’ She signed with a smile.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Assholes?’ He offered. She punched him in the shoulder before writing,</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘People who know how to make bad things better.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He scoffed, only because he didn’t know what to say. Luckily, he didn’t have to say anything because Connie was already writing more about her life before. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘You have no idea how annoying Kelly was. Her hair is so short now, I think, because I kept pulling it out when we were teens. Fought every day until I moved out.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She continued and he read over her shoulder,</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I don’t regret it. It was nice to have that normal experience, since dad was constantly away. Mom tried to make the best of things, but there’s only so much you can do, right?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl nodded, only just noticing the rays of pink light beginning to streak through the air. Tiredness hit him like a bag of bricks. Connie looked over at the sunset too and groaned, throwing her head back and rubbing her eyes.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Sorry I kept us up all night yammerin’.’ Daryl scratched the back of his head and Connie rolled her eyes.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Stop </span>
  <span>apologising</span>
  <span>. You’re better than that.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She kissed him on the cheek and got up to leave, biting the inside of her cheek at the blush that rushed to his cheeks almost immediately. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She yawned again as he walked her home- a cute sound, with a little squeak at the end a like a hiccup. Daryl didn’t </span>
  <span>realise</span>
  <span> he was smiling until she looked at him and signed, ‘What?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Nothin’.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He lingered on her doorstep as she went inside, unsure whether to follow or not. His question was answered when she darted back outside and grabbed his hand, practically yanking him through the door.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It was almost normal now, as they took off their jeans and climbed into bed. Still, every time Daryl wasn’t sure what to do. He wasn’t oblivious enough to think she didn’t want his </span>
  <span>touch</span>
  <span>, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>how</span>
  </em>
  <span> did she want to be touched? What did she want him to do?</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She must have seen him struggling because she peeled back the covers and patted one side of the bed. They lay on their sides and faced each other. It was a single, so they were already pressed close together even before she took his arm and wrapped it around her.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Okay?’ She signed.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Okay.’ He signed back, grateful to have her warmth, to have her next to him after a week of sleepless nights and nightmares. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Her hand spread over to his hip, where just a slightest sliver of skin peeked out from underneath his shirt. He fought the urge to pull away, to tell her not to touch him there, especially when her fingers traced over the scar that matched Michone’s, burning across his skin at the memory of the branding iron that had caused it. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She kept her eyes on him the entire time, and when he didn’t protest her hand settled there, hooked around his waist to pull him close. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>That was how they managed four hours of glorious, uninterrupted sleep.</span>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Y'all. Job interviews are so stressful. Have you ever talked to a CEO? CAUSE I HADN'T TILL YESTERDAY. Scary times.</p><p>Anyways, hope you all liked this chapter. I'm enjoying adding little flashbacks and things based on your suggestions, so keep 'em coming!  I'm also taking suggestions for one-shots, so anything you wanna see Daryl (and Connie) do, tell me about it!</p><p>Love you all.  See ya next week.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>
    <span>One Month Later</span>
  </b>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It was raining like hell. All week, rain. The fields were flooding over, causing Daryl to worry half the crops would be overwatered. He and the others dug a better irrigation system to redirect the water into storage containers, where it could be filtered and made useful. Cling film was delicately sewn together and became a makeshift roof for the fields, but the soil was still wet 100% of the time. Rice was planted in a newly-dug paddy, so now they had to hope that would take root and be enough to feed everyone in case the usual crop system failed.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>That would have been bad enough, but it rained every night too. That meant Daryl and Connie couldn’t meet up on the rooftop anymore, and neither one was sure how to proceed. Connie was waiting for him to make a move, and he knew it. And he was chickenshit to do anything.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He was a grown-ass man; knew what he wanted from her. He’d thought about it. Even thought of her on those mornings where he woke up hard. He thought of what it would be like to make her feel good, to pleasure her for hours on end...</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head and kept weeding the crops. No use to anyone, getting an erection in the middle of a field like some kind of pervert.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He thought back to his first real love, </span>
  <span>Annie</span>
  <span>. She’d been a lot like Connie; kind, independent, knew not to put up with his bullshit. When he’d lost </span>
  <span>her</span>
  <span> he forgot what it was like to be alive until Merle found him in the woods and beat some sense into him. What would happen if he lost Connie? </span>
  <em>
    <span>No big brother to save you anymore, Runt. </span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He spotted her walking with Judith and RJ, signing to them and writing translations on her notepad for Judith to read excitedly for her brother. He couldn’t help but smile at that- the kids loved her, and he could tell she loved caring for them too. Everyone in Alexandria loved caretaker duty in comparison to the other jobs in town, but Connie especially shined in the role, to a point where she spent most of her time teaching the town's children how to sign, how to do math, or just supervising them as they played. When the kids were old enough, she would teach them how to make slingshots and shoot them- easier than finding every one of the new </span>
  <span>generation</span>
  <span> a gun and ammunition.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She caught his eyes and smiled. The kids came rushing over, jabbering about what she’d just been telling them, evidently a story about the </span>
  <span>f</span>
  <span>i</span>
  <span>r</span>
  <span>s</span>
  <span>t</span>
  
  <span>t</span>
  <span>i</span>
  <span>m</span>
  <span>e</span>
  
  <span>s</span>
  <span>h</span>
  <span>e</span>
  
  <span>s</span>
  <span>h</span>
  <span>o</span>
  <span>t</span>
  
  <span>h</span>
  <span>e</span>
  <span>r</span>
  
  <span>s</span>
  <span>l</span>
  <span>i</span>
  <span>n</span>
  <span>g</span>
  <span>s</span>
  <span>h</span>
  <span>o</span>
  <span>t</span>
  <span>.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <span>A</span>
  <span>u</span>
  <span>n</span>
  <span>t</span>
  <span>i</span>
  <span>e</span>
  
  <span>C</span>
  <span>o</span>
  <span>n</span>
  <span>n</span>
  <span>i</span>
  <span>e</span>
  
  <span>g</span>
  <span>o</span>
  <span>t</span>
  
  <span>a</span>
  <span>r</span>
  <span>r</span>
  <span>e</span>
  <span>s</span>
  <span>t</span>
  <span>e</span>
  <span>d</span>
  
  <span>w</span>
  <span>h</span>
  <span>e</span>
  <span>n</span>
  
  <span>sh</span>
  <span>e</span>
  
  <span>w</span>
  <span>a</span>
  <span>s</span>
  
  <span>o</span>
  <span>u</span>
  <span>r</span>
  
  <span>a</span>
  <span>g</span>
  <span>e</span>
  <span>!</span>
  <span>’</span>
  
  <span>R</span>
  <span>J</span>
  
  <span>e</span>
  <span>x</span>
  <span>c</span>
  <span>l</span>
  <span>a</span>
  <span>i</span>
  <span>m</span>
  <span>e</span>
  <span>d</span>
  <span>,</span>
  
  <span>p</span>
  <span>a</span>
  <span>nt</span>
  <span>i</span>
  <span>n</span>
  <span>g</span>
  <span>.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <span>Sh</span>
  <span>e</span>
  
  <span>a</span>
  <span>c</span>
  <span>c</span>
  <span>i</span>
  <span>d</span>
  <span>e</span>
  <span>n</span>
  <span>t</span>
  <span>a</span>
  <span>l</span>
  <span>l</span>
  <span>y</span>
  
  <span>s</span>
  <span>h</span>
  <span>o</span>
  <span>t</span>
  
  <span>t</span>
  <span>h</span>
  <span>r</span>
  <span>o</span>
  <span>u</span>
  <span>g</span>
  <span>h</span>
  
  <span>h</span>
  <span>e</span>
  <span>r</span>
  
  <span>n</span>
  <span>e</span>
  <span>i</span>
  <span>g</span>
  <span>h</span>
  <span>b</span>
  <span>o</span>
  <span>u</span>
  <span>r</span>
  <span>’</span>
  <span>s</span>
  
  <span>w</span>
  <span>i</span>
  <span>n</span>
  <span>d</span>
  <span>o</span>
  <span>w</span>
  <span>!</span>
  <span>’</span>
  
  <span>J</span>
  <span>u</span>
  <span>d</span>
  <span>i</span>
  <span>t</span>
  <span>h</span>
  
  <span>e</span>
  <span>x</span>
  <span>p</span>
  <span>l</span>
  <span>a</span>
  <span>i</span>
  <span>n</span>
  <span>e</span>
  <span>d</span>
  <span>.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl raised an eyebrow at <em>Auntie</em> Connie. ‘Wow, that’s something.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Can we learn when we’re older, Uncle Daryl?’ Judith asked.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Pleeeeeaaase?’ RJ pouted, tugging on Daryl’s arm. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘You’ll learn with everyone else, when you’re old enough.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘When’s that?’ Asked Judith.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘When I say so.’ Daryl ruffled her sheriff’s hat. ‘For now, you got homework, doncha?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I already know how to shoot a gun.’ Judith pouted, folding her arms. Connie raised a hand to her mouth to hide her smile. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl crouched close to Judith’s level. ‘Yeah, but a slingshot is way more deadly. Any fool can fire a gun and attract all the walkers in spittin’ distance. Only a real badass like your Auntie Connie knows how to use something fast, silent, and deadly like a slingshot.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Language!’ Judith and RJ said in unision.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I don’t even know how to shoot a gun.’ RJ sulked. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Give it a couple years.’ Daryl smiled. ‘When you’re old enough, you’ll be wishin’ for right now.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Nah, I can’t wait to be a grownup like you.’ RJ mimicked gunfire, shooting at his bigger sister with a finger gun. ‘Pow pow! Take that,</span>
  <span> stink-breath walker!’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Judith gave a growl and chased after him, the younger Grimes shrieking and running away. Connie erupted into laughter when they were far enough away to be out of earshot.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Kids, huh?’ Daryl signed. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I love them.’ She replied. ‘They’re so... hopeful.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>There was something on her face as she watched them play- an emotion he couldn’t quite name. Happy and sad at the same time. Maybe she was wistful for some of her own childhood days gone by. Daryl couldn’t say he related, but he’d seen other happy kids. He imagined Connie at Judith’s age, breaking windows and turning up on her father’s doorstep in a police car. He stifled a chuckle.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘What?’ She signed, looking back at him. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Nothin’. Just can’t imagine you in trouble with the law, is all.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She raised an eyebrow and wrote, ‘I got in a lot of trouble way-back-when, Daryl Dixon. You’d be surprised.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He knew it was stupid, but he still got a flutter in his stomach when he saw his name on her notepad in her handwriting. Something inside him liked the reminder that she knew who he was, last name and all.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘You’ll have to tell me about it sometime.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded, and waved goodbye as the kids disappeared around the corner, rushing after them and leaving Daryl to finish work in the field.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>.. .. .. ..</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie relished the time she got to spend with the children of Alexandria- every one was already a unique character, perfectly molded to this world. It was a strange idea that these kids had never been to a shopping mall, or tasted real chocolate, or been taught by a real, qualified teacher. Connie did her best with the ones who could read, teaching them to sign and everything she could teach without words, which was a lot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had to admit, there was a soft spot in her heart for Daryl's children. She knew they weren't his <em>per se</em>, but they might as well be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Auntie Connie?' Judith signed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Yes?' Connie signed back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'How do you say <em>married?'</em> Judith finger-spelled the word for Connie, who wasn't sure she'd lipread the child right. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie tilted her head, but showed Judith the sign. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>'When are you and Uncle Daryl getting married?'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'What makes you think we're getting married?' Heat rushed to Connie's cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>'You look good together.' Judith signed. Connie was thankful the girl was so good at sign, so there was less risk of passers-by hearing the conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'We're best friends.' Connie signed slowly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Have you kissed yet?'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'You should ask your Uncle Daryl.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>'What are you guys saying?' RJ pouted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>'Connie and Uncle Daryl are gonna get married!' Judith said, running ahead when she saw Dog come into view. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>'WHAT?' RJ was right behind her, and by the time Connie caught up to them around the corner the conversation had changed to who Dog loved more. She wasn't sure how she felt about that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every now and again, she was certain Daryl had overcome whatever it was that held him back. When he's started letting her touch him beneath his shirt, she thought that meant something. The kisses they shared, the way he looked at her... it was impossible she was misreading him. He was an open book, dog-eared on a chapter about her. Maybe he was underlining and highlighting so much he was essentially illegible, but she knew he <em>cared</em>. </span>
</p><p><span><em>But if he does care, why doesn't he come to me at night anymore?</em> Connie frowned, even as the sun began to spectacularly set over the trees, and it was time to take the kids home and return to her own. <em>Why do we need to meet on the rooftop first? </em></span>She wondered how long this would last, this unspoken in-between in which they found themselves.</p><p>Daryl met her at the doorstep and ushered the kids inside to dinner. His eyes spoke an apology to her he'd repeated every day since he'd drunk the whiskey. And she'd forgiven him, really she had; <em>time to stop punishing yourself, Daryl</em>.</p><p>'You wanna come in?' He asked.</p><p>Connie nodded and he smiled almost imperceptibly, as if worried she'd punish him if she thought he was getting too giddy. She smiled as she waited at the table with the kids. Daryl served up a simple rabbit stew with carrots, green beans, and potatoes- the kind of freshness Connie knew would become scarce in winter. Every sip was heaven. </p><p>'Uncle Daryl?' Judith said and signed, much to Connie's delight. </p><p>'Yeah?'</p><p>'Do you and Auntie Connie kiss?'</p><p>Daryl choked on his stew.</p><p>He traded a look with Connie, who smiled and cocked her head at him as if to say, <em>Yeah, </em>do<em> we?</em></p><p>'What makes you ask that?' He finally coughed out.</p><p>Judith shrugged. 'You could be a power couple. I read a book about it, people like Ant-tony and Cleo-pah-trah. Important people belong together.'</p><p>'I need to have a talk with that librarian.' Daryl mumbled.</p><p>Connie giggled, before writing on her notepad: 'Your Uncle Daryl and I are best friends.'</p><p>Daryl nodded. 'That's all you need to know for now.'</p><p>Judith pouted, while RJ sighed. 'So we don't get to eat cake?'</p><p>'What does that have to do with them?' Judith asked. </p><p>'If they get married, we can eat wedding cake.' RJ whispered.</p><p>'<em>Please </em>get married, Uncle Daryl. Connie is so pretty and nice and strong.' Judith pleaded.</p><p>'And I want cake!' RJ added.</p><p>Connie could tell Daryl was trying hard not to roll his eyes.</p><p>'You're excused. Go play.' Daryl said, unable to hide the pink in his cheeks when they sped out of the room. Connie had heard the term deafening silence before, and wondered if this counted. Heat rose to her face just from looking at him.</p><p>'So. Ready to get married?' She wrote, and they shared an awkward laugh.</p><p>'Don't even know how they know about cake.' Daryl shook his head, standing up to clear the table with Connie. It was a fast job, and soon they were leaning against the countertop together, a little closer than they needed to be. 'We haven't had any weddings since RJ was three.'</p><p>'Kids find a way to know about <em>sweet</em> things. Like <em>cake</em>.' Connie signed, translating the words Daryl didn't know on her notepad.</p><p>Daryl smiled and signed, 'You like kids?'</p><p>'I love kids.' </p><p>'You're better with them than me.'</p><p>Connie shook her head. 'You're a good... <em>Uncle</em>.'</p><p>'You'd make a great mom.' Daryl said, before wincing. 'I didn't mean it like-'</p><p>Connie held a finger to his lips, a sad smile across her face. 'I <span class="u">made</span> a great mom.' </p><p>When he read the words on her notepad, he closed the distance between them in a tight hug. Connie hugged him back, and they let themselves breathe together for one slow moment. </p><p>'I should go.' Connie said, hoping he would ask her to stay, but also scared of what that might mean. She'd never spoken to anyone outside of her group about her son before. </p><p>'Whatever you need to do.' Daryl reassured her instead, taking her hand and kissing her forehead. </p><p>He walked her to the doorstep, where he stayed until she reached the end of the street. Connie looked back and saw him, silhouetted in the dusk like a dream.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I added a looooong bit to this chapter from Connie's POV. I hope you all like it- I'm trying to add a little more character than we've seen in the show thus far. Is anyone else hyped AF for season 10 ep 16?? And the DARYL SPINOFF? I'm screaming to myself here.</p><p>As always, thank you for reading, please let me know what you think. Much love to you all. Stay safe out there, it's 2020.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>‘Daryl.’ Maggie stopped him before he could follow one of Negan’s men out of the door and stab him in the throat. ‘Look at me.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I’m sorry... I’m sorry.’ He hadn’t looked at her since Glenn. When she made him, he fell </span>
  <span>apart.</span>
  
  <em>
    <span>Stupid boy. </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Gonna</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> get all your friends killed; look at you, just whimpering like a pansy.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘It wasn’t your fault.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘It was.’ He said, still not truly looking at her. He knew if he looked there’d be tears in her eyes and he’d hate himself even more.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly Maggie was on him, pressing him against the wall with superhuman strength. ‘Look at what you did to Glenn. You should be dead.’ She growled, in something that both was and wasn’t her voice. Her eyes clouded over with white as she lifted him by the throat and snarled, ‘I’m going to strangle the lights out of you, which is better than you deserve. Maybe with you gone, we’ll finally be safe. How </span>
  <span>bout</span>
  <span> it, Daryl? You </span>
  <span>gonna</span>
  <span> actually help this time?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Her lips receded, baring her teeth to him as she snapped, rotting before his eyes as she started to tear into his throat-</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl woke up choking on air, he could swear he still felt her teeth on him. His fingers brushed his throat as he tried desperately to calm his breathing. That was the third time he’d woken from that nightmare, and he didn’t think he could stand another.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Outside, rain still clawed at the windows, heavy like hailstones and almost as cold. Soon it would be winter, and he’d have that to worry about. But for now, he shivered in the autumn cold and knew he couldn’t go back to sleep, not with Maggie waiting for him every time. Or worse, maybe he’d fall asleep and be confronted with Glenn, who could never forgive him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Glenn never got to meet his son because of you. You worthless piece of shit. Maggie left because of you. Because she couldn’t stand it.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Lack of sleep made it harder to fight the thoughts- which he had been trying harder than ever to do, for himself as much as Connie and the Kids. He didn’t want to be eaten up inside anymore, second-guessing every decision. He couldn’t afford to be the Old Daryl. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He got dressed and pulled his boots on, knowing where he was headed even before he wound up on Connie’s porch, too chickenshit to go inside. Maybe it would’ve made sense to knock, he would’ve; but he didn’t want Kelly waking up on his account, so he just sat on the porch and watched the rain, feeling a little calmer than when he’d first woken. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>gonna</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> go in and kiss your girl, baby brother? </span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Fuck you.’ Daryl murmured to himself. He knew the voice wasn’t really Merle; but Merle was a part of him now, as much as his father or mother was. It wasn’t a part he particularly cared for, but it couldn’t be ignored.</span>
  <span> Even Merle didn't deserve to be forgotten.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rain rushed by in the gutter, clearing away leaves and dirt like a miniature ravine. Another day or two of rain like this and the goddamn town would be washed away.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You just </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>gonna</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> sit out here in the rain like a goddamn virgin? Maybe you </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>ain’t</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> my brother after all. </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Sure</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> you </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>ain’t</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> a faggot?</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl hated that word. He’d been called it at school, even by his first girlfriend, no matter how he tried to prove to her he wasn’t. He’d leaned into it after a while as part of shit-talking with the guys, and they’d laid off soon after. But Merle knew how it got to him. <em>Annie</em> knew, and she’d done everything to take away that pain. Just like Connie had been trying to do, until he’d hurt her. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He still blamed himself for that, too. Every part of him seemed to ache, until he heard it. Small, plaintive, but still a cry of stress, or pain, and it was coming from inside the house. That was all he needed to open the door and step inside, dripping rainwater all over the hallway. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kelly must not have heard him from the basement room. When he heard the call again, he knew it wasn’t her, Magna or Yumiko- it was Connie. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He tried to be as quick and quiet as he could when he made his way to her room.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She turned the light on just has he opened the </span>
  <span>door.</span>
  <span> She almost jumped out of bed before she </span>
  <span>recognised</span>
  <span> him in his soaking-wet state.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Daryl?’ She signed. Her eyes were wide and streaked with tears that didn’t stop coming. She was breathing heavily and had her knees curled up to her chest, hugging them desperately. She’d never looked so small.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I’m here.’ He said, shutting the door behind him. ‘I’m sorry. I was outside, and I heard you, and I thought something... I can go if you want, I don’t </span>
  <span>wanna</span>
  <span>-’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Stay.’ She signed, sniffing and taking deep breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth with pursed lips. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Thunder crashed outside for the first time and they both gave a start. Daryl smirked a little to himself. Here he was in Connie’s room, and he was scared of the weather? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Idiot</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He made his way to the bed, sitting on the end to take off his boots and draping his jacket over the end of the bed to dry. He hesitated to take off his shirt, shivering at the coldness of it but knowing she’d see </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He didn’t want to scare her more than she already was.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Her arms wrapped around him from behind and he tensed for a moment before forcing himself to relax, then relaxing for real when she buried her nose in his neck and shifted so her legs were either side of him. Warm. He breathed in her sent as she breathed in his, and he felt completely wrapped up by her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her arms went to undress him, but he stopped her and held her hands. She tensed behind him and he wished she could hear him without him having to turn around. It was easier to talk without looking in her eyes.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, he just squeezed her hands and placed them back around him. She squeezed him back in a hug and he sighed, leaning back against her a little until he felt her breathing calm. He didn’t want to pull away first, but he did, pulling off his soaked socks and tucking them into his boots on the floor, before peeling off his jeans. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie reached over to her bedside stand where she kept her notebook, sighing in </span>
  <span>frustration</span>
  <span> when she couldn’t find a pen. Daryl passed her one from her desk and she smiled in thanks.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘You should take off your shirt. It’s freezing.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>His blood ran cold at the note. She must have been able to read his expression, because she quickly added, ‘Or I have a towel. You can dry off a little.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He swallowed and nodded as she curled up a little under the covers and pointed him to the bathroom. The towel smelled like her as he used it to dry off his hair and body as </span>
  <span>best</span>
  <span> he could, taking off his shirt while she couldn’t see him and wringing it out over the sink. He paused and looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, wondering what she saw in him. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, he was well-muscled. On a good day he might’ve called himself rugged, but not particularly good-looking. He’d been younger when he’d first had the tattoos done, hoping to draw attention away from the scarring everywhere. </span>
  <span>Really,</span>
  <span> he’d wanted to be in charge of the pain for once; relishing every dip of the tattoo needle into his skin, hammering over his ribs. Marking him the way he wanted to be marked. It was a good thing the world ended when it did, or he’d be covered head-to-toe in ink by now.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He remembered the story behind almost every scar. From walkers, from bar fights, from his father. Talking about killing walkers was easy enough; but the rest? What if she wanted to know about that?</span>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’ll tell her. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He decided. The weight of staying away from Connie for so long was heavy on his shoulders, and he didn’t know how much longer he could take being without her, in this strange limbo.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘It’s okay,’ She signed when he came back into the room, shirt on his back. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I take time.’ He signed back, hoping she’d understand.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She smiled and opened her arms. This time he embraced her too. When was the last time he’d hugged anyone other than Dog? </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>gotta</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> get better at humans</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>When they broke apart, she moved as if to lie back down with him, but he pulled them both into a sitting position across from each other. She tilted her head at him.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘What?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Can we talk about... anything?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded, grabbing her notebook and pen from the nightstand. He took a deep breath. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I’m tired of fucking around. I know that’s rich, coming from me, but I just </span>
  <span>wanna</span>
  <span> know where we stand.’ He studied her reaction, waited for her to write something, but there was nothing on her expression, aside from maybe the subtle upward tilt of her lips. Her eyes were unreadable in the dim light of her nightstand, her face half a silhouette to him.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I like spending time with you. Hell, I think I’ve spoken more to you in one month than I have to anyone else in years. But I’m- I’m tying myself in knots, I guess, </span>
  <span>cause</span>
  <span> I don’t deserve...’ He wasn’t sure. Usually, his thoughts trailed off there. He didn’t deserve. Period. Anything he got, he was quick to remind himself he didn’t deserve.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He wished his sign was better so she didn’t have to write everything out for him all the time. Waiting for her reply made his palms sweat.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘You really don’t know how I feel?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Had he read everything wrong? Oh god, what if when she’d said </span>
  <em>
    <span>family</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she meant as a brother? Or maybe cousin? Third cousin four times removed, maybe?</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She rolled her eyes at his incredulous expression before she was on top of him, and he fell back onto the bed with her straddling him. When her lips hit his, everything went blank around them. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He returned her kiss, feeling a passion rising in him he'd forgotten about, pulling her close and </span>
  <span>eliciting</span>
  <span> a moan from her when his tongue dragged over her lips, asking for permission, which she gave. He deepened the kiss and didn’t stop until he thought his lungs would burst from lack of oxygen.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Jesus </span>
  <span>Christ</span>
  <span>,’ He breathed against her when they broke apart. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It was as if the dam had burst. He grabbed her hips and flipped them over so he was on top. Not missing a beat, Connie wrapped her legs around his waist and rolled her hips. He groaned a little louder than he’d have liked, diving down to attack her neck with his lips and tongue, relishing the taste of her and the sounds that erupted from deep in her throat, holding nothing back. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Their lips met again and she bit his lower lip, hands tugging slightly in his still-damp hair. She leaned up to return the favour on his neck, her hand up under his </span>
  <span>adams</span>
  <span> apple. He wondered what she was doing there until she nibbled on his earlobe and he groaned from deep in his throat. She smirked at the vibration, clearly loving the reaction she was getting out of him as they continued to grind against each other.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>His hands </span>
  <span>caressed</span>
  <span> her sides, unsure where he was allowed to touch until she groaned in frustration and showed him exactly where she wanted- which was, apparently, under her shirt. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Her skin was soft against his hands as he massaged her breasts, flicking his thumbs over her nipples and loving the way she arched under him when he got it just right, especially when he repeated the action while kissing along her neck and up her collarbone.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She was something from a daydream, writhing under him and pulling his head back up to meet her lips. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Her hands snaked their way down his torso, to the hem of his shirt. His breath caught in his throat when she started to lift upwards, hands automatically going to stop her. She frowned at him in confusion. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I’m, uh, I’m not- can't... not yet.’ Daryl swallowed. He was very aware of how tight his boxers had become, thanks to what they were doing, but he had no idea how she’d react to seeing the scarred parts of him. She hadn’t talked to him for a week after the whiskey incident, what would she do when she found out he’d been keeping the <em>real</em> bad stuff a secret? She might not want damaged goods, which would really hurt, considering he’d only just found out what it was like to kiss her.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She smiled and reached up to touch his face, signing ‘Okay’ with her other hand before she pulled him down to kiss her breathless.</span>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Looong haitus- professional editing is a full-time, long-ass job, Donnie fam! But I'm trying to get back on top of things, so you know... expect some Donnie fluff in the coming weeks ;) </p><p>Hope you're all doing well. I love you all. Thanks for reading ^_^</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Connie couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so well. She’d had the best dream, with Daryl’s tongue in her mouth and his hands everywhere under her shirt...</span>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Oh.</em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She stretched under the covers, feeling his arm curl tighter against her in his sleep. </span>
  <span>She</span>
  <span> couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face like warm butter. Okay, they had yet to have a proper conversation about what they were, but she knew him. Daryl Dixon wasn’t the kind to kiss and leave. He was a loner, but a caring one. Not-so-secretly-sweet. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Usually it was up to whoever was staying over to sneak out of the other’s house, but she felt the change in the air as he stirred against her, stiffening for a moment as he probably wondered where he was, only to relax as he remembered. His hand squeezed her breast for a moment, causing her to giggle and press back against him, already feeling him hard against her ass. She could imagine him blushing behind her and that just made her stifle another giggle. He squeezed her closer to him in response.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>For a while they just lay there, basking in the warmth of the bed compared to the cool of the early morning air. The kids probably wouldn’t be up for another few hours, so Daryl had time before needing to be home. Connie bit her lip and turned to face him.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>For once, he didn’t avoid her gaze. That made her smile. For once, she could search his eyes evenly, admiring the flecks of brown that dotted his baby-blue irises like freckles. He swallowed, and Connie could tell he was nervous. He hadn’t held eye contact with her for so long before. It felt intimate, more intimate than his hands under her shirt, fun as that had been. She sighed and wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close in a hug. She wanted to feel him, skin-on-skin, but sighed against him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not yet. He’ll get there.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>For now, she had to respect his boundaries, even as she couldn’t help but run her fingers over his biceps as they pulled apart. He kissed her lips in what was meant to be a chaste gesture, but she grabbed his head and kept him there, tongue skirting along his bottom lip so he opened his mouth and let her deepen the kiss.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She felt him groan against her as he moved once again to be on top, grinding against her in the same delicious way he had last night, making her moan in return. His hands ghosted along her sides, asking for permission again- she made a note to <em>make</em> a note later for him, tell him could touch her like that whenever he wanted, but for now she smiled and gave a nod, which was all he needed to let his hands wander up beneath her shirt to play with her nipples. Her breath left her lungs. His lips found her neck, but that was too much for her to handle. She flipped them over, turning the tables as her lips found his again, hips grinding against his hardness. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She kissed along his stubble and down to his neck. She felt him let out a low moan when she nibbled along the shell of his ear, and lifted her hand to his </span>
  <span>adam’s</span>
  <span> apple to better gauge his reaction when she nipped his earlobe. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, he definitely likes that,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she smirked against him as his hands found her hips and ground her against him even more, wetness pooling in her core at the delicious sensation.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He rolled them over once more, this time playfully kissing all over her face with a youth she hadn’t yet experienced from him. She giggled and grabbed his face to kiss him again on the lips.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>But, just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. Both of them panted heavily as he rolled off of her. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Are you okay?’ She signed. He gave a thumbs-up.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘You’re...’ He sighed, kissing her again. ‘I’m sorry I can’t give you more.’ He bit the skin around his thumbnail and avoided her eyes again. ‘I don’t know what I can give you.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Her hand brushed the rough stubble of his cheek, his own hand going up to hold it there for a moment, before kissing her inner wrist. She could have groaned at the intimacy of the action.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I’ll wait as long as you need,’ She signed for him, smiling when he pulled her close again. It was nice to know he understood, even if he wasn’t fluent yet.</span>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A short chapter for you. From now on, I should be updating on Sundays, so hopefully you can all have some more Donnie in your life until we run out of chapters ;) There is a criminal lack of Donnie fics on this site, I swear!</p><p>Hope you're enjoying the story so far. Love you all, thank you so much for your comments- they mean more than you know. Thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was an unexpected invitation when Daryl asked her to come with him, Judith, and RJ to the lake. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Kids </span>
  <span>gotta</span>
  <span> learn how to fish sometime,’ He’d shrugged when she’d raised an eyebrow at him. ‘When I was RJ’s </span>
  <span>age</span>
  <span> I was catching enough fish to keep the fridge stocked. Every day, more fish. Learned a hundred and one ways to cook fish, too. They </span>
  <span>oughta</span>
  <span> learn sooner rather than later.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie shrugged, and let Kelly know where she was going.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘With Daryl?’ Kelly signed, wiggling her eyebrows. Connie punched her arm. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘He’s a nice guy.’ She signed in reply, not sure what to call him other than that. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Boyfriend?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Felt too juvenile. Neither of them </span>
  <span>were</span>
  <span> that young. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lover?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sounded more like a fling; she hoped that wasn’t what this was. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘You’re spending a lot of time with him. He made any moves on you yet?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie didn’t have to answer the question. Her juddering hand movements as she fought to find the right words said everything. A big smile broke across Kelly’s face as she laughed. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘And when were you planning on telling me?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘We only just started!’ Connie defended. If she hadn’t needed them, she’d have crossed her arms in front of her chest as she tried unsuccessfully to glare at her sister. ‘We want more time to... I don’t even know how to describe it. But he’s a good guy, and those are hard to find nowadays. </span>
  <span>So</span>
  <span> don’t scare him off, right?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Okay,’ Said Kelly, </span>
  <span>mischievous</span>
  <span> glint in her eye. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I mean it!’ Connie signed furiously, spotting Daryl and the kids over Kelly’s shoulder. ‘I should be back before nightfall. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone, okay?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kelly shrugged, smile breaking through her nonchalant demeanour. ‘You have to tell me everything when you get back.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie made no promises as she moved to join the group leaving Alexandria, Dog running out of nowhere after them at the last minute.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The lake was sparkling in the midday sun by the time they got there. RJ and Judith were hyped up to learn how to fish, ready with their child-sized fishing rods. Some planks stuck out from the water, like someone had started to build a </span>
  <span>Doc</span>
  <span>k there and given up. Connie had heard stories about Rick, Daryl’s other brother, and how he’d been trying to build Alexandria into something better, bigger. Maybe the </span>
  <span>Doc</span>
  <span>k had something to do with it. She made a mental note to ask Daryl about it later. Hopefully Rick wasn’t as big a dick as the rest of Daryl’s family.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl kicked off his boots and socks and had the kids do the same, walking ankle-deep into the water before making sure the kids were stood far enough apart to be safe to cast the lines. He gestured to Connie to come nearer, and she took off her boots to stand beside them, leaving Dog on his own to wander through the trees nearby. This way, she could still read their lips without feeling like too much of a spectator. She smiled at Daryl for inviting her in on this familial outing. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl produced a </span>
  <span>mouldy</span>
  <span> piece of bread from his pocket, broke it into three, and demonstrated to the kids how to </span>
  <span>attach</span>
  <span> it to their hooks.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Careful you don’t prick yourselves. If you do, we’ll need a d</span>
  <span>oc</span>
  <span>tor to get it out, and it’ll hurt a lot.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Judith and RJ watched intently and repeated his movements as he demonstrated how to cast the line.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Swing the rod back over your shoulder, and bring it forward in a smooth motion. Judith, you first.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Judith stuck her tongue out the side of her mouth, concentrating intensely. Connie couldn’t help but smile at how cute she looked. She cast the line and it went pretty far into the lake. Daryl nodded in approval when she looked up at him and added,</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Use your wrist, not your elbow. RJ,’ He had a twinkle in his eye, ‘You </span>
  <span>wanna</span>
  <span> show your sister how it’s done?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>RJ nodded emphatically, sticking his tongue out at Judith as he cast his line a little bit worse than Judith had, which wasn’t surprising given his age and complete lack of hand-eye coordination. Connie wondered if Michonne had been the same as a kid, if she’d grown into using her katana from practice and not been a natural. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>RJ, though, was evidently proud of his work, flashing a big grin up at his Uncle Daryl. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Good job, buddy. Now all we have to do is wait for the fish to take the bait.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘How do I know when I’ve got a bite?’ Judith asked, watching the water where her line joined it, as if the slightest ripple was a clue to how long she’d have to wait to out-do her brother.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘If you feel the tip of your fishing rod just twitching, don’t yank it yet. It means one’s nibbling. But if you feel a hard tug, then go for it and reel them in.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The children nodded and waited patiently... for about three minutes. Then the groaning began, making Connie bite her lip as Daryl tried to placate the increasingly restless ragamuffins.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Why am I not catching any?’ RJ pouted.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Just be patient.’ Daryl didn’t take his eyes from his fishing rod.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘My arms are tired.’ Judith sulked.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘You’re fine.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>An hour or so later, Daryl started reeling in like a madman. ‘We got one!’ He said, only for his face to fall when he reeled it all the way up and revealed a fairly small bass.  ‘We should really throw these smaller ones back, give </span>
  <span>em</span>
  <span> a chance to grow up a bit.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed and removed the fish from the hook, tossing it back into the water. The group stared out over the lake in silence for a bit longer. The wind ruffled the surface of the lake, bringing Connie back to a time far before the End. She’d gone to Venice, Italy, with her college boyfriend. They’d hardly spent any time actually seeing the place, far too wrapped up in each other to appreciate the scenery. But the remnants of the dock and the endless blue of the lake reminded her of that city on the water, all the same.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Being here with Daryl was the opposite of Venice. Every look he gave was a reminder of how in-tune he was with the world around him, barely squinting as the sunlight reflected into his eyes from the water. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It was just beginning to turn autumn, and already the leaves were starting to yellow and fall, carpeting the lake in gold. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Fishing sure is boring, Uncle Daryl.’ RJ cut in, leaning his head against his fishing pole and letting out a hefty sigh. Connie stifled a giggle at his melodrama.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I know, boring as hell.’ She saw Daryl close his eyes and sigh. If she’d been slightly less </span>
  <span>perceptive</span>
  <span> she might have missed the smile playing on his lips. ‘You come to like it when you’re older. Boring gets good after a while. And besides, once you get the hang of it, it’s better to know how to fish. You can get food for days from this lake, or the river, or even the ocean, if you know how.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I got one!’ Judith cried, reeling in her line until it got so hard </span>
  <span>Daryl</span>
  <span> had to stick his fishing rod in the sand and help her. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Phew! This is a big one!’ He said as the fish erupted from the water, flapping around like crazy. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He lowered it into the bucket he’d brought with them and studied the fish. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘A big old bluegill is what this is.’ He said, removing the hook once the fish had stopped moving. ‘Might even be the biggest one I ever seen. What do you think, Connie?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie gave Judith a double-thumbs-up, which made the girl break into a huge grin before casting her rod once more, from her wrists this time and not her elbow. Connie saw the pride written all over Daryl’s face as he picked up his pole again and recast.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie didn’t always catch everything that was said. Sometimes she’d turn around to see the group chuckling at something, or turning their heads away so their lips were out of sight. In her mind, she knew it was probably a harmless joke or one of Daryl’s one-liners, but she couldn’t help it; she felt like they could have been laughing at her. She’d been through that too many times at school, at her old job, and even as she fought for survival with different groups of people. There was always one asshole who would make fun of her disability, thinking she had no idea. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She knew Daryl wasn’t that kind of asshole, and neither were the kids, but seeing them laughing and not knowing the joke brought back feelings she hadn’t felt since she’d arrived in Alexandria. </span>
  <span> Suspicion and distrust were natural in this world- laughter? She couldn't remember the last time things felt safe enough for that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After reeling in another bluegill, Daryl caught eyes with her. His face darkened and she cursed herself internally for forgetting he was almost as good at reading people as she was.  He stuck his pole in the sand.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘What’s wrong?’ He signed.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Nothing. I’m fine.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Talk later?’ </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded reluctantly. In the past, other partners had called her stupid, told her being deaf was no big deal, and she should stop being so insecure about it. She wasn’t sure how she’d react if Daryl thought the same.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He seemed to relax at her nod, before signing: ‘Want to try?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She shook her head and lifted up her hands, which was a mistake because he took one and pulled her forward to where he was standing, her boots sinking into the muddy water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Did you get what I said earlier? How to cast?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He put the fishing rod in her hands and took a step back, watching.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She took a deep breath. When Kelly was young, they’d gone fishing on the beach with their father. Kelly had done exactly what Daryl had warned Judith and RJ against: she’d put the hook through her thumb. At that point, Connie had never seen so much blood, or her father so simultaneously scared and angry. All she knew was that her baby sister was hurt, bleeding, and crying while their fishing trip had been cut short and they’d had to go to the hospital for Kelly to get stitches. Ever since then, Connie had never wanted to touch a fishing rod.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl seemed to sense her apprehensiveness, nodding encouragingly and miming </span>
  <em>
    <span>deep breaths.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She exhaled, and cast the rod. The lure landed halfway across the lake with a satisfying ring of water splashing up around it like rain.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Very good,’ Daryl signed to her, giving her </span>
  <span>the same double thumbs up gesture</span>
  <span> she’d given Judith. Connie gave him a playful glare, smile sneaking through the pretence. Daryl shrugged and stood back, watching Judith and RJ fidget in place as they fished and generally basking in the nature around them. He looked so at peace here- more so than he ever did in Alexandria. She wondered if he’d grown up surrounded by woods, or if they’d grown on him after the End.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>When she felt the gentle vibration of the fishing rod, she held her breath. When the vibration became a definite tug, she began to reel, not expecting the amount of resistance she felt there. How could a fish be so strong?</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She got her answer when she reeled in a dinosaur</span>
  <span>. Daryl jumped forward immediately. Judith’s eyes went wide and she immediately went in front of RJ, who seemed to resent being protected- but not enough to step out from behind her and face the monster.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘It’s a snapping turtle.’ Daryl explained, taking a knife from his belt. ‘See this beak? She could take your finger off with that.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Do we have to kill her?’ Judith asked. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl shook his head. ‘They don’t taste great. Not when there’s good fish in the lake besides them. But, since we don’t want to </span>
  <span>lose</span>
  <span> a finger, I'm </span>
  <span>gonna</span>
  <span> have to </span>
  <span>lose</span>
  <span> the hook.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He took the knife and cut the line. The second the turtle was back in the water it darted away with unprecedented speed into the murky water. Connie didn’t </span>
  <span>realise</span>
  <span> her hands were shaking until Daryl patted her shoulder and took the fishing pole from her hands, his touch lingering just a little bit longer than needed. He produced another hook from his pocket and sat on the shore to re-attach it, Connie sitting next to him and trying to enjoy the sun on her face, forgetting she’d ever seen the turtle.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Are you scared of fish?’ He half-signed, half-spoke.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘No.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Who’s scared of fish?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘You looked pretty scared just now.’ There was a teasing glimmer in his eye.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Shut up.' Connie wrote in her notebook. 'I’m always scared when a dinosaur comes at me, snapping.’ She pointed to the word </span>
  <em>
    <span>dinosaur </span>
  </em>
  <span>for emphasis.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘They’re only dangerous if you piss them off.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘He looked pretty pissed off to me.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘She.’ Said Daryl matter-of-factly. ‘You can tell from the shell.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie shrugged, internally impressed at how much he knew, and wondering what else he did. She’d lip-read some passing conversations about Daryl. Before she and her family had arrived in Alexandria or Hilltop, he’d been living out in the wild as some kind of hermit. When he was within the walls, it was hard to imagine. He was always involved in the community somehow- helping with crops, making sure the walls were secure, </span>
  <span>organising</span>
  <span> and leading scavenging expeditions in nearby towns. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>But now, watching him expertly thread the fishing line through the hook and dig in the dirt until he found a worm to attach to it... and even after he cast the line, sitting back in the dirt with his fishing rod between his legs. He looked so relaxed, but simultaneously untamed. Connie’s face felt hot as she </span>
  <span>realised</span>
  <span> she liked it a lot more than she’d originally thought. The man was full of surprises- but then, so was she. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>By the end of the day, all of them had caught at least one fish (apart from Dog, who mostly just whizzed through the trees in the background, </span>
  <span>occasionally</span>
  <span> barking for Daryl’s attention). Daryl held the fish bucket for the children to see just how much they had all caught.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I bet we can feed Alexandria for a whole month on this. Well done, little ass-kickers.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He high-fived each of them, before they returned home like conquering heroes. </span>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Already a late update! But this chapter was so hard to write... Hope you guys enjoyed! Look forward to Donnie's next conversation in chapter 11, it's a good 'un ;)</p><p>Thanks for reading. Love you all.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When they’d dropped Judith and RJ at school for their afternoon lessons, Daryl led Connie back to the house. Since they were on guard duty together later that night, they had the rest of the day free to sleep. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He hoped he was imaging the apprehension in her feet, wondering what had went wrong at the lake for her to frown to herself like that. He had rarely seen her frown... outside of a life-threatening context. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He stocked the freezer with the fish they’d caught. There would be time to take them to the actual storage unit later, but for now he just wanted to relax with Connie before the night shift. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They found themselves wrapped up together on the couch, her head on his lap, not saying anything. Daryl had always liked the quiet. Even if his home life hadn’t been a train wreck growing up, he probably still would have spent all his time in the woods, just for the silence of nature. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>His hands found Connie’s hair, and he guessed he was still allowed to touch it from the way her eyes closed when he wound a ringlet around his finger, </span>
  <span>marvelling</span>
  <span> at how soft it was.</span>
  <span> How soft she made him feel, in spite of everything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His other hand rubbed soothing circles into her scalp. When things hadn’t been so bad, his mother had taught him: </span>
  <em>
    <span>You want a girl to like you, you learn how to massage her when she’s tired. C’mon, baby, Mama’s got another headache.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>From the way Connie sighed and smiled beneath him, Daryl knew his mom was right about one thing. Shame she hadn’t told him anything else about women to draw upon, otherwise he might have known how to talk to Connie. He didn’t usually think so hard before speaking to her- it was a blessing of their friendship that he could usually be open with his thoughts. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He stopped the massage and let his fingers trace down her cheekbones and along her jawline. She opened her eyes and smiled at him, signing, </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘That was nice.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled. ‘Glad you liked it.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Why’d you stop?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie bit her lip and he knew <em>she</em> knew what he wanted to talk about, but he had to find the right words to say it. She sat up next to him, creating distance that burned the air between them. He spoke carefully and slowly, knowing it made it easier for her to lipread.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘What was wrong at the lake?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Nothing. I caught a turtle.’ Connie glared at him. ‘I don’t like fishing.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘You liked watching Judith and RJ.’ Daryl countered. ‘Then I turned around for a minute and you looked... angry. Hurting.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie sat up and looked away from him. He chewed the skin around his thumbnail, feeling he was skating on thin ice. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>When Connie looked back at him, he wasn’t expecting her to be blinking back tears. ‘It’s nothing,’ She signed, biting her lip.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl frowned softly, scooching closer to her. Connie was curled into a ball and staring at the unlit fireplace, which was gathering dust from disuse all summer. Her gaze flickered back to Daryl every moment or so to make sure he wasn’t talking.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl rubbed the back of his head. ‘I don’t know much, but if I do something wrong, I </span>
  <span>wanna</span>
  <span> know. Please tell me.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘It’s not your fault.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Seems like it is.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie bit her lip. There was that frown again- this one he had seen in many life-or-death scenarios, usually when he was about to do something stupid.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She signed something he didn’t understand, and when he shook his head uncomprehendingly she signed ‘paper’.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl dashed to the kitchen and picked up a scrap of paper and a pen from the table. When he returned, Connie was slumped over, resting on one arm of the sofa with her hand over her face. He bit back an apology not only because she wouldn’t hear him, but because they needed to <em>talk</em>, especially if he had done something to upset her, which seemed very likely considering he seemed to upset everyone at some point or another.</span>
  <span> <em>You killed Glenn. You couldn't find Rick. You've hurt Connie. You're a waste of space and she wants you gone. </em> Daryl shook his head against the thoughts. No room left in the world for self-pity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tapped Connie on the shoulder when he sat back down and signed, ‘I’m sorry I’m making you uncomfortable.’ (it was a more complicated phrase he’d </span>
  <span>memorised</span>
  <span> before, knowing he’d get good use out of it in the future.)</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie shook her head, writing, ‘If I tell you, you have to tell me something about you.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Heat rose to Daryl’s cheeks. ‘Like what?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Something personal.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He swallowed, but nodded. That seemed enough for Connie, who sat back with the pen and paper so he couldn’t see what she was writing for five minutes. He nibbled on his thumbnail and tried to relax, wondering what she’d ask him. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>When she finally passed back the note, it was a full page of writing. Her letters were deeply engraved onto the page, handwriting a messy and scrawl:</span>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>I guess I’m just insecure about things sometimes. I had a lot of people, Before, who didn’t respect me because of my hearing. Co-workers would think I was ‘slow’ or ‘rude’ for not hearing them. Or they’d get tired of constantly repeating themselves if they’d talked with their backs turned. A lot of people told me to try harder, or that it was all in my head, but it wasn’t. Eventually even my friends just stopped trying, or they’d make fun of me. They’d cover their mouths or talk with their back turned, and they’d be laughing, and I’d have no idea why. But it was usually at my expense.  </strong>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a lump of coal in Daryl's throat  that only grew as he finished reading. If it was anyone else, he’d have put up his usual front, tried to act disinterested, but with Connie, he needed to say something... more.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She studied his face the entire time he read the note, a line between his brows. She started chewing on her lip, usually-elegant hands clawing at each other on her lap as Daryl sighed from somewhere deep and looked at her. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘That sucks,’ He mimed finally, not knowing the proper sign for it. Connie laughed and nodded. ‘I hope you know: me, Judith and RJ would never laugh at you. <strong>Ever</strong>. And, in the future, I’ll make sure you’re more included when we talk.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I know. The memory just came out of nowhere when I saw you three and didn’t understand.’ She wrote.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I think we were laughing at RJ.’ Daryl smiled. ‘He was asking if you can eat frogs. I said yes. He asked if you could eat worms. I said yes. He was working his way through a list of things he thought were gross to eat.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie giggled at that. ‘Thank you.’ </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Don’t worry about it.’ He signed back. She pecked him on the lips and he was just about to pull her close when she pulled away far too soon.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Your turn.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He tensed his jaw and nodded. She gave him another peck and picked up the paper, thinking. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He winced when she handed him the paper.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Why don’t you want me to see you?’ was the note she finally handed to him. Several other questions were scribbled out around it that he couldn’t make out. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I want you to see me.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘You know what I mean.’ She took the paper back and wrote, ‘wet shirt.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl shifted so he was sat cross-legged across from her on the couch. What could he say to that? Finally he just signed,</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Ugly scars.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I don’t mind.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘You will.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She cocked her brow at him. ‘I won’t.’ She wrote.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She then reached for his hand, but he flinched away from her touch even without meaning to. He thought he was past this. Privately, he was. He didn’t mind his body- it was the only one he had, and it did whatever he needed. But what would Connie think if she saw <em>him?</em> He didn’t want her to be scared of him, or worse, pity him.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>When he flinched away from her touch, she knitted her brow together and he swore he’d never seen anyone look so hurt. He was even more confused when she started unbuttoning her pants.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘What’re you doing?’ She couldn’t see his lips moving, pulling the top of her jeans down and lifting her shirt up to reveal a dark scar running almost from one side of her hips to the other. She looked at him while he took it in. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>His first instinct was that someone had hurt her, and he should go beat their brains in. Then he </span>
  <span>realised</span>
  <span> it wasn’t the same kind of scar you’d get from a fight. This was cleaner, if only slightly. His eyes widened as he </span>
  <span>realised</span>
  <span> what it was.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl’s mother had had a C-section, and this looked like that, but... larger. Crueler edges to it, like it hadn’t healed properly at first. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘What happened?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She took the paper from him and wrote, ‘I was pregnant at the End.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She bit her lip and tried to translate the feeling in his eyes. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘That’s why you had to save the baby.’ He half-signed. ‘In the corn field.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She closed her eyes and nodded. ‘I had to save one.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>His heart twisted for her, remembering the ordeal Lori had gone through when she’d been pregnant. It was a miracle Judith survived. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I’m sorry, Connie.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘It’s in the past.’ She wrote, ‘Now it’s a scar, and it reminds me where I started, but it isn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span> to me anymore.’ She bit her lip before adding, ‘I know it’s not the same as what you’ve been through, but don’t act like I don’t have my scars either. We're both more than that.’</span>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>God this chapter reminds me why I love these two so much. I hope you guys enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thank you for your encouraging comments, they really do mean the world to me.</p><p>Love you all. Hope you're taking care of yourselves and having a good winter season!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Daryl felt like a dick.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie had fallen asleep on the couch with him, and he’d stayed awake just loving the feel of her breathing against him, twitching and shifting in her sleep. He could watch her forever, his hands in her hair or curling protectively around her back. He was sat up and her laid down with her head on his lap- a position she seemed to find most comfortable, and he didn’t have any complaints about it either.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so close to a person. Annie seemed a lifetime ago. Even Beth and Carol had never gotten this close to him; not really. They’d scratched the surface but respected him enough not to break the ice on his surface. Connie didn’t just break the </span>
  <span>ice,</span>
  <span> she was a fearless sledgehammer who wasn’t afraid to break everything wide open and dive right in. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He wondered what had happened to her child, or the father, for that matter. Did she have an Annie, in her past? Was it a part of some grand life plan that the End had stopped forever? He could picture Connie as a mother, just from the way she was with RJ and Judith and even Lydia, before Lydia had decided to strike out on her own. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘She takes after her father,’ Connie had signed to him when Daryl had returned alone from the woods, letting everyone know Lydia was out there, that she’d be back someday, but just needed a little time.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He missed Lydia, but not in the same way he missed the other people he’d lost. He didn’t even know if she </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> lost. He’d run off when he was younger, not come back for a month. He’d learned more in that month than he ever had in school. Hopefully Lydia would be the same. She just had to work things out.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The sun setting outside his window bathed the room in an orange glow. He shifted carefully to let Connie lie on the sofa without waking as he stood up. The kids were just getting home by the time dinner was ready.</span>
  
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘Eggs again?’ RJ pouted. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘You like my eggs.’ </span>
  <span>Daryl</span>
  <span> said, popping a handful of fried spinach on the side of the </span>
  <span>kids</span>
  <span> plates for good measure. Judith was a good eater, even though spinach was far from her favourite. She sniffed it and tried to swallow it whole, gagging a little at the taste. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I hate spinach.’ RJ grumbled. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘It’s a good source of iron. Make you grow big and strong, like Popeye.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Who’s that?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl felt old.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘He’s uh, a sailor. Goes round the world </span>
  <span>killin</span>
  <span>’ walkers, but only after he’s eaten his spinach.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Why does he need spinach to kill walkers?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘It makes him strong.’ Daryl twirled his fork around the spinach and stabbed it into a bit of egg, eating half the plate in one massive mouthful. ‘See?’ He chewed and swallowed. ‘Delicious.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>RJ stuck his tongue out of his mouth in disgust, but he knew the house rules: no leaving the table till everything was eaten. Food was a precious resource, and if he didn’t eat what he was given he wouldn’t eat at all, as much as Daryl’s heart had twisted the few times he had had to send to boy to bed without supper. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m not Pop</span>
  </em>
  <span>, He reminded himself, smiling as the kids cleared up their plates. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Why can’t we eat more fish?’ Judith asked. ‘Fish have protein. That’s basically iron.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl shook his head. ‘They got fat. Omega-3, Omega-6, important fat. We’ll need them for winter, so they’re frozen now. Or pickled. Don’t worry, you’ll get plenty more spinach before then.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Judith grimaced, but still stood to give Daryl a good-night hug and help him clear up. RJ wiped down the table, and for the thousandth time Daryl wondered how </span>
  <span>Michonne</span>
  <span> had managed to raise two perfect kids pretty much alone.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What is it tonight?</span>
  </em>
  <span> He was remembering everyone not there with him, almost completely forgetting Connie on the sofa until he came back in with a cup of hot tea for himself. She barely stirred as he came in, though a little smile on her face betrayed the fact she was awake. He set it down on the table in front of her and kissed her head, jolting at a knock on the door.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Connie says you need someone to watch the kids tonight.’ Kelly said with a wiggle of her eyebrows.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Uh... Yeah. We’re both in nightwatch. But they should be-’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I don’t mind.’ Kelly came into the hall. ‘I used to babysit back in high school. You got any house rules I should know about?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl shut the door behind her. ‘Nah. They’re usually good. Know not to get out of bed, and once they’re down they’re down till the morning. RJ might try and test you in the night, or if he has a nightmare, but you just give him a glass of water and a hug and he’ll calm down.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kelly nodded, taking a seat at the kitchen table and looking around. ‘Where’s Connie?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl felt a blush tickle his cheeks. ‘She fell asleep on the couch. Figured one of us should be well-rested tonight.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kelly nodded, studying him from the corner of her eye. When she saw he was looking at her, it turned into a full-on glare, like she was trying to read his soul. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Must be genetic, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Daryl thought.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘She’s been disappearing a lot lately. Know anything about that?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl bit the inside of his cheek. ‘We’ve been spending time together.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘A lot of night shifts, right?’ Kelly smirked at him.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘It’s not like that.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘No?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head, confused at her frown.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Why not?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He’d had this conversation before, and didn’t care to repeat it. Why did everyone and their dog have to be so nosy about his life? His... <em>whatever it was</em>, with Connie? He showed up when people needed him. Did the work they asked. Why couldn’t him and Connie just do... whatever it was they were doing, without being questioned by people who weren’t involved? </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, getting angry at her sister was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>great</span>
  </em>
  <span> way to get her involved, so he replied, ‘You should ask her.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kelly scoffed. ‘What, you don’t kiss and tell?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I’m a real chatterbox.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She snorted, resting her head on her hands on the table. ‘Can’t blame me for wanting to find out.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I know. I don’t.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘You'll be a good man for her.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The statement rustled something in Daryl. He’d never felt like a good man in his life. He’d done his best; looking after the group, hunting for them when he could, been there for Rick. He’d tried to be the best uncle he could to the kids, and with Rick gone he knew it was up to him to show them what a good man was, and make sure they knew their father as much as possible. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>But then he closed his eyes and saw Glenn, who’d died because of him. Maggie, who’d left because of him. Carol, who’d left him for Ezekiel twice. Henry, Carl, Rick, Dale, and more faces of the people he couldn’t help. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I try.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kelly nodded. ‘She’s had her heart broken before.’ She tilted her head towards the couch. ‘And if it happens again, I’m not responsible for what happens to you.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Noted.’ Daryl said, biting back a smile. This he understood: wanting to protect loved ones. ‘Want some tea?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kelly nodded, and he boiled the kettle and poured a fresh cup for her. By now Connie had sat up, and found his cup of lukewarm tea in front of her. She hummed slightly as she sipped it, looking around and smiling when she caught eyes with Daryl through the doorway. When she came into the kitchen, she raised an eyebrow at Kelly, who grinned. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Remember, you asked me to babysit?’ She signed.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie gave her a look that said, ‘</span>
  <span>Hrrumph</span>
  <span>.’ and went back to sipping her tea.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘We best be off soon,’ Daryl said, signing along with his words. ‘I’ll be right back, </span>
  <span>gonna</span>
  <span> make sure the kids are settled for ya, Kelly.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kelly nodded, wiggling her eyes at Connie as Daryl left the room. He heard a slapping sound and an ‘Ow!’ from the kitchen before he’d made it up the stairs.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Judith and RJ were already in their pyjamas, playing on the floor with the police figurine that reminded them of Rick, from the stories they’d been told. Daryl watched from the doorway, heart like melted butter, until he saw how dark it was outside and knew he couldn’t wait any longer. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘C’mon kiddos, time for bed.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They protested, but eventually he wrangled them both into bed by promising them a fresh story about Rick in the morning. That always worked. They both hugged Daryl good-night and were half-asleep by the time he turned out the light.</span>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Merry Christmas, Donnie fam! Hope everyone's happy and healthy this holiday. Your lovely comments are the best presents I could have asked for. </p><p>Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Next one coming next week. Love you all ^_^</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The night was beautiful and clear when they took over at the top of the wall from Magna and Yumiko. The milky way twinkled overhead and the cold night air filled Daryl with energy for the night ahead, not that anything ever happened on watch nowadays. Being with Connie probably helped.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They sat close together, fingers intertwined between their chairs, only to break apart when Connie signed,</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘What did my sister tell you?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Normal sibling stuff. Don’t worry about it.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Tell me.’ Connie pouted, much to Daryl's amusement. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘She just told me not to hurt you. I think she implied she’d cut my balls off if I do.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie rolled her eyes and put her head in her hands. He laughed- a sound he barely </span>
  <span>recognised</span>
  <span> coming from his own mouth. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘It’s okay,’ He signed when they got the courage to look at each other again. ‘She cares about you.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘She should mind her business.’ Connie signed, pleased when he nodded in understanding. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I understand more than I can sign.’ He explained. ‘It helps havin’ a good teacher, anyhow.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie grinned. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Could you teach me more?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded and was about to sign something, but he stopped her by half-signing, half talking, words </span>
  <span>coming</span>
  <span> extra slow as he tried to think of the gestures to go with them:</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Could you teach me more what it’s like to be you? I mean, like at the lake, I didn’t know what made you upset. I don’t </span>
  <span>wanna</span>
  <span> make you upset.’ He smiled. ‘I’d rather keep my balls, if you don’t mind.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie laughed and rolled her eyes, but nodded and grabbed her notebook, scribbling furiously for a good few minutes. Daryl admired the way her silhouette glowed even when there was hardly any light to shine off of it. The moon and the starlight was enough to see she was beautiful, even as she squinted to write in the lack of the light.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>When she handed the notebook back, it was a list:</span>
  
</p><ol>
<li>
<span>Don’t yell, cover your mouth, or turn away</span>
</li>
<li>
<span>Don’t touch my hands when I’m talking</span>
</li>
<li>
<span>Eye contact is important (but I know it’s hard sometimes)</span>
</li>
<li>
<span>There’s no such thing as a whisper in ASL, so we think about privacy differently- hardly anything is off-limits, so sometimes we might seem a little rude.</span>
</li>
<li>
<span>In big groups, I can’t lipread what everyone is saying at once. It’s easy to feel left on the sidelines, even if no one means it. It can also be exhausting using a notebook all the time with people who aren’t trying to learn my language.</span>
</li>
<li>
<span>You don’t need to baby me, Daryl. If you do something wrong, I’ll tell you. And if I do something wrong, you tell me.</span>
</li>
</ol><p>
  <span>He read through the list a few times, trying to take it all in and commit it to memory. He found his fingers running over the 6</span>
  <span>th</span>
  <span> line. It sounded so... nice. No other word for it. Being given more than one chance to do something wasn’t part of his world. Since the End, there had been no second chances... but maybe it could work, just in this case. For Connie.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Can I keep this page?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She smiled and nodded, tucking the notebook into her pocket when he handed it back. He tucked the note into his vest pocket. Test himself later. For now, she’d given him some more parts of her; he wanted to do the same.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘My brother left when I was still a kid.’ He distracted himself from the story he told by signing as much as he could. ‘Lied about his age, joined the Marines. They found out eventually and he got kicked out, but he didn’t come back until I was in my twenties. And even </span>
  <span>then</span>
  <span> he wanted something- always wanted something, my brother. He needed me to drive getaway a couple times, and that's how I learned to drive. Not just my dad's beatup truck, but real cars. Motorcycles. Whatever Merle needed me to have, that's what I had. But he promised me the big money was </span>
  <span>gonna</span>
  <span> come from contraband. Weapons, drugs, that kind of thing. I was young, and stupid, and he was my brother, so I took the job.’ He gulped. ‘I was never much good at hurting people when he wanted me to, though. Not brutal enough. Not unless they were </span>
  <span>gonna</span>
  <span> hurt him first. </span>
  <span>So</span>
  <span> he mostly had me stealing vehicles and handling smaller sales. That was me, Before.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie stared at him for a long moment, expression unreadable. She got out her notebook and wrote, ‘Merle’, accompanying it with a sign he’d never seen before. He frowned in confusion until he </span>
  <span>realised</span>
  <span> what she meant. He repeated the gesture. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Merle</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She’d just given Merle a name in her language. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Thank you.’ He signed. She smiled and shrugged.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Why did you go with Merle?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘He was my brother.’ Daryl said slowly, not fully sure of the answer himself, even now. ‘We were always together as kids. I guess I spent so long being his brother I forgot how to be anything else.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>That seemed to be enough for Connie as she nodded and threaded his fingers with hers. They both sat back and watched the wind waving through the trees. At some point she shivered and climbed out of her chair. Daryl assumed she was going to grab a blanket or go to the bathroom, but instead she climbed onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, her sigh tickling his ear.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>His arms went around her almost instinctively, even when hers wrapped around underneath his vest. He knew she could feel the scars through his shirt, but she didn’t seem to mind, even as she turned her head to the side to keep watching the woods with him. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She wasn’t cold for long. </span>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy New Year and Valentines Day, Donnie Fam! I can't believe it's been over a whole freaking month since I updated. I'm the worst (also, working 40 hours a week is the worst)- hopefully this lil chapter will make it up to y'all... but just in case, I'll be updating with chapter 14 ASAP too ;)</p><p>Hope you enjoy!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They learned more about each other as the season dragged on, and the first snowfall of the year painted the world into a blank canvas around them. The flooding of that autumn hadn’t gone unnoticed in the food supplies, but if they were careful and if Daryl could hunt them something good every now and again, everyone could make it fine. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie told him about her first boyfriend, who had also been </span>
  <span>deaf.</span>
  <span> She’d liked him because he was tall and athletic, but his personality left something to be desired. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I wasn’t allowed to talk to any of the other guys. Even my friends. If he saw me talking to another boy, he’d start an argument- never about the boy. Always about something small I’d done that he could make me feel bad about. We broke up after a few months.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Where she started at the beginning of her romantic life, Daryl thought it best to work backward. He’d never told anyone about Annie. Not even Carol. Not even Merle, who’d inadvertently orchestrated the end of things between them. Daryl wasn’t sure he had the vocabulary or the energy to explain his memories of Annie. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘There was this girl- Beth. We bumped into her family and, uh, well me and her got separated from the rest of the group. She was a real firecracker- didn't let me get away with any bullshit. I needed that </span>
  <span>kinda</span>
  <span> wake-up call back then. Said some things to her I regret, and then we just... lost her.’ He knew he didn’t have to explain how chaotic life was outside the walls of Alexandria, but Connie’s understanding gaze ached for more information. ‘She could play piano, and sing like an angel. She knew she was too good for this world, even before it proved her right.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie’s hand had squeezed Daryl's, and a little bit of the hole Beth had left was gone. It couldn’t ever be completely filled, but maybe parts of it could be repaired. Maybe he wouldn’t ever fall into it again.</span>
  <span> <br/><br/><br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d take Connie into the woods to hunt with him and Dog. She was a better tracker than he could have imagined. Years living in hostile conditions chasing down political stories and telling the firsthand stories of asylum-seekers had given her an edge he’d never seen- if there were tracks in the snow, however faint, she’d find them. If something scuttled up in the trees, she’d spot it in her periphery and either point it out to him or (more often) shoot it down herself. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Alexandria was drowning in fowl and squirrels whenever the two of them came back together from a hunting trip. Usually there was a crowd of people to greet them when the gates opened, to take the prey away to be prepared for cooking. Today, however, Daryl noticed something before they’d gotten back: a footprints in the snow, left by petite feet. A trail of red droplets </span>
  <span>accompanied</span>
  <span> them all the way to the gates of Alexandria, which were already open. Someone inside was being carried away by a group of people. When Daryl saw the skinny, hunched frame and long dark hair, he knew exactly who it was and broke into a run, dropping his crossbow in the process- Dog would pick it up anyway. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Lydia!’ The tiny teenager being carried to the medical building groaned slightly, a wound on her head bleeding profusely. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl fought the urge to pull everyone away from her and carry her to the medical building himself. As it was, he dashed ahead of the group knock ferociously on the door before he started. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Doc came outside, eyes wide when he spotted Lydia being supported by two Alexandrians. She was incredibly pale. Her nose and ears were bright pink from cold, and she wasn’t wearing the jacket Daryl had made sure she left with. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Doc </span>
  <span>needed</span>
  <span> space to work around Lydia, removing her shirt when he </span>
  <span>realised</span>
  <span> she also had wounds on her torso- multiple bruises to her arms, like she’d tried to defend herself; a bloodied gash to her </span>
  <span>forehead</span>
  <span>, and a worrying red wound on her side that Daryl couldn’t tell was from a bullet, arrow, or something else. There was an exit wound on her back, but that told him nothing apart from her life was in immediate danger.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>No bites, thank god.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He took her hand, which was cold as ice, and glared at </span>
  <span>Doc</span>
  <span>. ‘What can I do?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘She needs blood.’ </span>
  <span>Doc </span>
  <span>said</span>
  <span>, working on cleaning and repairing the exit wound. ‘I don’t have her type on file, so you’ll need to extract it so we can find out fast.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Hell no.’ Daryl said. ‘There’s </span>
  <span>gotta</span>
  <span> be a better way.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie burst into the room. ‘Is she okay?’ she signed. Daryl shook his head.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Either you help me find her blood type, or she’s dead either way.’ </span>
  <span>Doc </span>
  <span>snapped</span>
  <span>. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie frowned, fumbling in her rush to retrieve her notepad out of her jacket and scribble something down.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘You can’t take more blood from her when she needs more.’ Daryl shook his head. ‘Can’t you just sew her up and work from there?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Do I tell you how to hunt squirrels?’ Doc snapped. ‘I know what I’m doing, Daryl. And this girl is going to die if you don’t trust me.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie shoved her notebook in front of Doc’s face. Daryl couldn’t see what it said, but suddenly Doc was handing him a syringe and a wipe. ‘Change of plan. We have a donor.’ Daryl was handed an IV bag, and Connie sat down with her arm out. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl had never been good with needles, but he remembered the basic medical work Doc had taught him, just in case anything bad happened out in the field. He found Connie’s vein and took the blood while she looked away, other hand tense on her knee. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She must not like needles either. </span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>When he’d taken another syringe of blood under </span>
  <span>Doc</span>
  <span>’s instruction, Daryl helped set up the IV drip. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Good. Now, I’m sorry, but you both need to go. I can’t have you here while I’m doing all this stitching.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I </span>
  <span>ain’t</span>
  <span> leaving her.’ Daryl growled, but Connie’s hand on his arm stopped him from stepping forward. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She squeezed his arm, gaze unwavering, and he grudgingly let her lead him out the door.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She couldn’t lead Daryl away from the step though, where he sat in the snow and wished he had a cigarette to calm his nerves. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie took his shaking hands and squeezed, letting them go to sign, ‘She got here in one piece. She’s strong.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘She’s just a kid.’ Daryl spat, angrier at himself than her. ‘I should never have let her go off alone.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie bit her lip and shook her head. ‘It’s not your fault.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘I couldn’t even take her blood.’ Daryl said. ‘What’d you say to </span>
  <span>Doc </span>
  <span>to</span>
  <span> get him to take yours?’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie produced her notebook from her pocket and flipped to the latest page:</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I’M O NEGATIVE. HURRY.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She scribbled below the message:</span>
</p><p>'O negative means you're a universal donor. I donated to my grandma when I was in college.'</p><p>
  <span>Daryl’s heart twisted. ‘Thank you.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie shook her head again. ‘Family.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl almost smiled. ‘Family.’ he signed back.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Despite the cold snow seeping in through their clothes and deep into their bones, Connie stayed with him until </span>
  <span>Doc </span>
  <span>came</span>
  <span> out. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘She’s resting now, but she seems to be stable. You can come in as long as you don’t disturb her.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl nodded while Connie signed a sweet thank-you as they walked back in. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl got a lump in his throat when he took in Lydia, so white she practically blended in with the plain medical sheets. Her nose and ears were no longer pink and her lips were no longer blue. The blood had been cleaned from her body, so he could see her injuries were smaller than he’d cooked up in his head. The gash on her forehead looked nasty, but it would heal, and her hair would cover the scar. The wound on her side, while now covered with the hospital sheets, was still a concern, but </span>
  <span>Doc </span>
  <span>had</span>
  <span> done his best to fix it and she wasn’t bleeding through her bandages yet, anyway. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘Thank you.’ Daryl breathed at the doctor, who shrugged and mumbled a reply, leaving Daryl and Connie sat with Lydia.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘And thank you,’ Daryl said, turning so Connie could read his lips. He didn’t sign only because his hand was holding on tight to Lydia’s, horrified at how cold and limp it felt in his. ‘She’d be a goner if it wasn’t for you.’</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Connie shook her head. ‘She’s strong. This girl is a survivor.’</span>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>In other words, Connie is a badass woman and we should all stan her and the actress, who is deaf irl and has an awesome sense of humour (her name is Lauren Ridloff and she deserves the world). </p><p>Hope you're all enjoying the fic so far! Much love &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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